There was a Miss Morning Bread
In a luscious fresh butter palace,
The walls were of sugared almonds,
The floor of almond biscuits,
The bedroom
Of milky cream,
The bed of cookies,
The curtains of licorice.
She wed Sir Round Pastry –.
Him crowned with fine fromage blanc,
His hat of galettes,
His outfit of hors-d’oeuvres,
His breeches of nougat,
His vest of chocolate,
His stockings of caramel,
His shoes of honeyed soles
Their daughter, the rich dessert Charlotte,
Had a nose of marzipan,
Teeth of superb fruit-stew,
Ears of dry crunchy biscuit;
I can see her cover
Her dress in pleasures
With a baker’s roller
Of thick apricot paste.
But the wicked fairy Carabosse,
Full of jealousy, and sour meanness,
Overturned with a tap of her hunchback
The sugared palace of happiness;
To build it again
Give as often as you can,
Give, dear parents,
Sugar to children.