Life And Death.

Goldfinch60



Why is my existence so short?

I get created in a bowl,

First with flour and butter.

Loving fingers rub through me,

Caressing me as one would

Caress the form of a loved one.

The butter and flour are as one

Together forever.

The sweetness of sultanas

Are added to enhance the rapture

Found in my being.

Then some milk enters me,

And I become one smooth body

Laid out on a board.

And gently caressed until

I am flattened and ready

Ready to be cut

Into individual bodies.

The birth of my offspring is nigh.

Into a nice warm oven

We are placed

And rise as the heat overcomes us.

At last we are fully risen

And our birth happens

As we slide onto the tray.

But almost as soon as we are born

We are killed

As a knife slices through us!

We are smeared with butter

And if lucky, jam.

Our maker then eats us.

Why cannot we scones

Live a longer life.

  • Author: Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 19th, 2023 01:08
  • Comment from author about the poem: Just cooking some scones.
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 7
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments5

  • 2781

    They live on; on our bellies.

    • Goldfinch60

      They certainly do 2781.

      Andy

    • orchidee

      Good write Gold. lol.

    • Neville


      I love em with jam n cream .. gotta be clotted .. that's the cream not the jam .. I like strawberry or blackcurrant 🙂

      • Goldfinch60

        When my wife and I used to go the Yorkshire Dales we went into a cafe at Aysgarth Falls and have a cream tea, it was clotted cream and strawberry jam - I had never seen so much cream on the plate - it was delicious!

        Andy

      • Jerry Reynolds

        Oh Andy, though the Scone dies, the recipe lives.

        • Goldfinch60

          It surely does Jerry.

          Andy

        • BlessedbyGod

          Sounds delicious Andy!makes me want some

          • Goldfinch60

            I can make you some whenever you are passing Melissa.

            Andy

            • BlessedbyGod

              Ok, sounds good



            To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.