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I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a boy
I loved it even more.
Sometimes we used to have it for tea
and Mum used to say,
'If there's any left over
you can have it to take to school
tomorrow to have at playtime.'
And the next day I would take it to school
wrapped up in tin foil
open it up at playtime
and sit in the corner of the playground
eating it,
you know how the icing on top
is all shiny and it cracks as you
bite into it,
and there's that other kind of icing in
the middle
and it sticks to your hands and you
can lick your fingers
and lick your lips
oh it's lovely.
yeah.
Anyway,
once we had this chocolate cake for tea
and later I went to bed
but while I was in bed
I found myself waking up
licking my lips
and smiling.
I woke up proper.
'The chocolate cake.'
It was the first thing
1 thought of.
I could almost see it
so I thought,
what if I go downstairs
and have a little nibble, yeah?
It was all dark
everyone was in bed
so it must have been really late
but I got out of bed,
crept out of the door
there's always a creaky floorboard, isn't there?
Past Mum and Dad's room,
careful not to tread on bits of broken toys
or bits of Lego
you know what it's like treading on Lego
with your bare feet,
yowwww
shhhhhhh
downstairs
into the kitchen
open the cupboard
and there it is
all shining.
So I take it out of the cupboard
put it on the table
and I see that
there's a few crumbs lying about on the plate,
so I lick my finger and run my finger all over the crumbs
scooping them up
and put them into my mouth.
oooooooommmmmmmmm
nice.
Then
I look again
and on one side where it's been cut,
it's all crumbly.
So I take a knife
I think I'll just tidy that up a bit,
cut off the crumbly bits
scoop them all up
and into the mouth
oooooommm mmmm
nice.
Look at the cake again.
That looks a bit funny now,
one side doesn't match the other
I'll just even it up a bit, eh?
Take the knife
and slice.
This time the knife makes a little cracky noise
as it goes through that hard icing on top.
A whole slice this time,
into the mouth.
Oh the icing on top
and the icing in the middle
ohhhhhh oooo mmmmmm.
But now
I can't stop myself
Knife -
1 just take any old slice at it
and I've got this great big chunk
and I'm cramming it in
what a greedy pig
but it's so nice,
and there's another
and another and I'm squealing and I'm smacking my lips
and I'm stuffing myself with it
and
before I know
I've eaten the lot.
The whole lot.
I look at the plate.
It's all gone.
Oh no
they're bound to notice, aren't they,
a whole chocolate cake doesn't just disappear
does it?
What shall 1 do?
I know. I'll wash the plate up,
and the knife
and put them away and maybe no one
will notice, eh?
So I do that
and creep creep creep
back to bed
into bed
doze off
licking my lips
with a lovely feeling in my belly.
Mmmmrnmmmmm.
In the morning I get up,
downstairs,
have breakfast,
Mum's saying,
'Have you got your dinner money?'
and I say,
'Yes.'
'And don't forget to take some chocolate cake with you.'
I stopped breathing.
'What's the matter,' she says,
'you normally jump at chocolate cake?'
I'm still not breathing,
and she's looking at me very closely now.
She's looking at me just below my mouth.
'What's that?' she says.
'What's what?' I say.
'What's that there?'
'Where?'
'There,' she says, pointing at my chin.
'I don't know,' I say.
'It looks like chocolate,' she says.
'It's not chocolate is it?'
No answer.
'Is it?'
'I don't know.'
She goes to the cupboard
looks in, up, top, middle, bottom,
turns back to me.
'It's gone.
It's gone.
You haven't eaten it, have you?'
'I don't know.'
'You don't know. You don't know if you've eaten a whole
chocolate cake or not?
When? When did you eat it?'
So I told her,
and she said
well what could she say?
'That's the last time I give you any cake to take
to school.
Now go. Get out
no wait
not before you've washed your dirty sticky face.'
I went upstairs
looked in the mirror
and there it was,
just below my mouth,
a chocolate smudge.
The give-away.
Maybe she'll forget about it by next week.
Michael Rosen
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: chocolate, school, funny, mirror, money, sometimes, dark, smile, running
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Comments about this poem (Chocolate Cake
by
Michael Rosen
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Ashley Hartshorn (2/7/2012 5:15:00 PM)
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Why is it so long? ? ? D: i was going to use it in a project because i needed other poets work but i dont wanna have to rewrite it
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Elena Sandu (1/30/2012 3:48:00 AM)
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Lovely poem, it reminds me of my mother's chocolate cake, it used to melt even faster than yours, we always had to share.. Hahaha my mouth is watering now so I'll get a bite of only thing of chocolate I can find in my house a bitter sweet choco icecream! Yummm..
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Jo Saunders (12/31/2008 12:23:00 AM)
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I found this poem by flicking through a friend's Xmas present, a poetry book. I read it, and laughed and laughed. Unfortunately my friend did not see the funny side. This may be because she's stick thin while I... let's just say that I have eaten plenty of chocolate cake!
I shared the content of the poem with my overeaters group - and there was a lot of laughter there too. I'll forward the web reference to all the members so they too can enjoy it in its glory.
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Loyd C. Taylor, sr. (9/6/2008 7:33:00 PM)
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Hello there poet and thank you for sharing this delightful and fun to read piece. Good work, Loyd
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Brian Dorn (7/29/2006 4:49:00 PM)
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I think a lot of us chocolate lovers can relate to this.
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Year 2 Birchwood Avenue Primary School (10/21/2004 5:14:00 AM)
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Dear Michael Rosen,
We liked the part when you described eating chocolate cake in the playground it was a really good description especially the 'oooooommmm'. We like chocolate cake just as much - we wish we could have chocolate cake for our snack, but we can't have sweet things for snack in our school. We think you should have told your mum the truth - if you had said you were sorry she might not have told you off. We think you should have shared the cake with your brother. Did your dad say, 'Never let me see you doing that again'?
We love your poems, we think they are really good and really funny.
Remember to wash your face next time!
From
Year 2
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