For it is with the deepest pride I make a mess of things

I stink up the kitchen most fierce and pull out all the stops

Innocent ingredients -seemingly so- I’d have to say

Or at least to some they’d be, depending upon one’s appetite

I do this with delight, sometime near sundown each day

All to keep the Vampire away

The blanks

To live in the dark shadows
At the soft end of the long, hard day

To lay in the calm 
Of the exposed, rocky underside

To linger forever
Tho’ the shoulders beg for home sweet home

To learn, though blinded
To be found in the lost of it all