Who doesn’t love butter?
Spread lavishly on a toast.
Causing the heart to flutter;
Glowing cheeks to boast.

Made from fresh milk;
Sold as dairy product.
How we deal with butter;
Is no surprising conduct.

Just call out
For some butter;
There’s no need
To stutter.

Melted butter on pancakes;
Pouring maple syrup.
While sitting at the table;
Planning trip to Europe.

Mother called, there is;
Butter chicken for dinner.
Rushing through the day;
I arrive tonight a winner.

Just call out
For some butter;
There’s no need
To stutter.

Because its butter;
Used in several ways.
Soft, pure and yellow;
Never cease to amaze.

 

Photo credits: www.lovefood.com

Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads