Pop Sopping Biscuits

With his finger, he pressed down

Impressing upon the biscuit with a hole for holding

For syrup or honey, depending upon his taste of the day

Sometimes, for dessert, he ate his biscuits this way

But usually after a meal

Of field peas, corn, and country fried-steak,

If any biscuits were left

He would proceed:

The plate was cleaned and the honey brought out

Slowly falling, then oozing from the bottle’s spout

Onto a spoonful of butter it spread

Creeping golden across his plate

With smooth stirring, he mixed the two

Butter and honey, with his biscuit

And then when the mixture was done,

The sopping could begin

If my hand drew near he said I’d “draw back a nub”

When asked if it was good,

“It’ll make you slap your Grandma”, was his smiling reply

But, I didn’t dare

©2019 Lenny Wells

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