Sunday, April 11, 2010

Cinnamon Ghost


Take care and beware
Of the Cinnamon Ghost!
He swoops through the air
Stealing cinnamon toast!

Though no one is certain
Of his size or shape,
He swishes the curtain
And swooshes the drape.

You turn, try to catch him,
But find out instead,
That no one can match him—
He’s gone with your bread!

Your lovely wheat slices,
Your warm melty butter,
Your sugars and spices—
They’re gone in a flutter!

You gape at the theft,
And the breakfast nook hums,
But all you’ve got left
Are some speckles and crumbs.

There’s no one in sight,
But you almost could swear
That a crunch of delight
Comes from Grandpa’s old chair.

1 comment:

  1. Awwe, this is "sweet". It's OK, (sneaky) Gramps!

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