Fish in a pond

The swish of a knife the sizzle on a pan
Sweet sweat on the clavicle of a recognizable tan

As I sneak on the bearer the fritters come alive
In a frenzy of grease they begin to jive

The bearer undaunted turns about face with guile
With a hot flat handle she threatens awhile

But the mirth on her face has put me to ease
The fritters keep popping the sweat doesn't seize

Just then in that moment of unfettered love
White froth in steel threatens to run amok

With seconds to spare the golden beads are mixed
The burgeoning broth of goodness ceases to resist

As the clock chimes the fifth time and the sun starts to alight
The aroma of the broth and the sweat seem just right

Like yesterday the heavenly sip has renewed the bond
O' mother without you I would be a fish without a pond.