cake batter poem, I pour you into the pan
shaped like a star, a heart.
will anyone eat you?
will they call you scrumptious?
will they covet your frosted roses
on each slice?
I'm glad you never burn in the oven
like the other cakes do.
you always come out just right
and flavorful, too.
I like to think so.
cake batter poem
I'll sprinkle you with candied everything
and sugared violets you know,
half hidden under the snow of your icing
for any guest on winter's road
a long way off from spring
mary angela douglas 2 january 2014
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