Poem 112,330 of 234,860: FROM AN ECCLES CAKE - SPRING 2008

The bedroom window's southerly views
    Framing bakers paying their dues -
All kinds of cakes filled with fruition,
    And youngsters avoiding nutrition;
Hot cross buns I'd often see -
    And Ecclefechan roaming free;
And, in a distant tin perched high,
    The floury nest of a warm mince pie;
In spring, lemon drizzle would yellow the floor -
    Matched by simnels, marzipanned by the score;
Behind Pudding Lane, a moony crest -
    A glimpse of creamy Paris Brest.
A half-moon cake, I kid you not,
    I really liked it quite a lot.

The kitchen window's cakey view
    Would me with love and pride imbue;
A patissiere there on a mission -
    To end my struggle with nutrition;
While an English cook of tarts -
    Fattened the chambers of my heart;
White merengues soon did me wrong,
    And treacle tarts my arteries thronged;
Blood in my veins made a roar -
    I feared I would soon be no more;
As the sun set in the west
    I sped towards eternal rest;
A cholesterol-filled graveyard plot,
    I died by cakes, but loved the lot.

I am going to allow this post to stand with the admonition that you are NOT permitted to use multiple identities. This will be allowed as it is poetry, but be advised it will not be allowed again.