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.