An Old Poet Stops By A Bakery

by Jack Locke

Whose words these are I think I know

They bear the bulge of baker’s glow

There is no need to be austere

I dream much cream be free to flow.

For pastry is poetry here

It brings happiness and such cheer

Love of custard make no mistake

Is sweet basis of my career.

Each morning after I awake

A mixer combines angelic cake

Before forenoon it loses heat

When freshly frosted I partake.

The scent of baked goods true a treat

The sound of poems blessèd beat

Blending of both makes life complete

Blending of both makes life complete.

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