R. (Rayanne) Vanderkleed
5 Or 6 Angels And A Birthday Cake - Poem by R. (Rayanne) Vanderkleed
For my daughter’s second birthday,
I made a party cake with five little angels in a swirl of snowflakes.
I’d bought a little frosting tube for a few cents,
Made a butter frosting and a few experiments.
A pencil sketch to copy from but work to undertake,
I hurried to fix batter and to get the layers baked.
They were cooked in no time, cooled and cut and shaped,
Iced and smoothed and cooled again, for my daughter’s cake.
Now for the decorating. This is the fun.
Half in the doing and half to see what’s done.
Well now to get to it, we’ll put an angel here...
We’ll draw a pretty angel. We’ll draw an angel fair.
We mustn’t make an error. We mustn’t muss a hair.
We mustn’t make an error. We’ll decorate with care.
This cake must be just perfect. A flop I couldn’t bear!
This cake must be just perfect because my little girl
Just might remember this second party whirl.
Draw with a toothpick. Squeeze a little paste.
Make a little hair-do. Always work with haste.
Smooth a little frock. There’s no time to waste:
Cool the cake once more or you’ll have to baste.
Let it harden crisply while you do another chore.
Take it to a counter then rush and work some more.
Hurry hustle bustle across a busy floor.
Put it in the frigidaire and when you close the door
Umpteen hours later, you can relax! It’s complete!
Now there’ll be an extra special treat.
Her birthday morning’s play, my little girl was wide awake.
Her frosty cake seemed to hear a sort of world of snowflakes.
And for the angels I had surely done my best.
Each little angel wore a blue elf dress.
Prim sleeves puffed and trim skirts trailed,
Made thick and heavy but they billowed so they belled.
Each little angel had a brown-gold face.
Each little angel stood serenely and with grace.
Each little angel showed a gold-brown arm,
Chubby still with baby fat and held a flare to warm.
Three were little torch bearers with a torch of gold.
All were smiling pleasingly in the snowy cold.
Two hallowed cherubin stood ahead as planned
Holding tallow candles in tiny hidden stands.
Each one had wings of blue a little lighter than
Her dress and the candles in chubby angel hands.
"Happy birthday party. Happy birthday play.
Happy precious angels. Happy birthday day."
Comments about 5 Or 6 Angels And A Birthday Cake by R. (Rayanne) Vanderkleed
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye