Sweet Poem by Ada Shelley

Baklava, mousse, soufflé and trifle
Flapjacks, brownies and fairy cake
Delicious desserts in Mother’s kitchen
We children beg to taste a flake.

All day, Mother cooks with an eager smile
Flurrying flour, cinnamon, eggs and milk
Her skilful hands kneading dough, cutting treacle
Yet she moves with a grace like sweeping silk.

For breakfast, we have gingerbread
At lunchtime we feast on toffee
Often Mother will watch us eating
Drinking a cup of coffee.

In the cupboard we keep a cookbook
Brightly flaunting rainbow tints
Pictures of muffins and puddings and pancakes
Of lollipops, bubblegum, licorice, mints.

Mother constantly bakes us cakes and lollies
Each one unique, of a different kind
Each day, in the cookbook, she finds a new recipe
And begins to mix and sprinkle and grind.

Grown-ups think sugar ruins your teeth
So they stick to a diet of carrots and meat
But a taste of something sugared or candied
Is enough to make any day sweet!