The Act of Making a Cake

The simple ingredients make it good.
Mixing and whisking, adding and stirring,
Batter is forming, like any cake would.
“When is it done?”, my sister’s incurring,
Not long now, for the cake is soon rising.
Leavening and growing, just like a tree,
My o my it’s sensationalizing.
My mother thinks it would be good with tea,
While my dad thinks its good with plain icing!
The timer is ringing, the cake is done,
But first it must cool before the slicing.
I think to myself well that was sure fun!
I sit down at the table, cake in hand;
It seems it came out exactly as planned.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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