Shall I compare thee to a steaming plate?
Thou art more lovely and fragrant:
Fire ants do nibble the darling pats of butter,
And butter’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of oven shines,
And often is his toasted crust trimm’d;
And every bread from toast sometime declines,
By chance, or bread’s changing course, untrimm’d:
But thy eternal butter shall not melt,
Nor lose possession of that crisp cornered toa’st;
Nor shall the floor brag thou wander’st in his bacteria,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can sniff, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives toast to thee.
YOU ARE READING
Ode To Toast
Humor"why not" Update. I've written a few vulgar words, but I hardly see that a a good reason to mark my story as mature. So this is at the reader's discretion. Have fun
