Trifles© Poem by Roann Mendriq

When I woke up this morning
and bounced out of bed,
Visions of airy confections,
danced in my head.

My kitchen was calling,
It was time to make cake;
I couldn't wait to get started,
I needed to bake!

The butter dripped golden,
the eggs like white pearls,
And the sugar was shining,
like sweet little girls.

I sifted and whisked,
with my big wooden spoon,
I happily hummed,
a nonsensical tune.

Sultanas and raisins
Currants and cherries,
mingled most merrily
with ruby rasberries.

Popped into the oven,
in time for tea;
What a cake this was going to
turn out to be!

Within 30 long minutes,
I had tears in my eyes,
My wonderful cake
was refusing to rise.

I begged and I cajoled,
I prayed on my knees,
But that cake was intent,
to do all to displease.

Then I heard in my mind,
my sweet Grandma's voice,
Use your heart and your head,
to turn sorrows to joys!

I crumbled that cake,
(Now that felt so good)
I crumbled that cake,
to crumbs like I should.

Then I poured out sweet custard,
with red jelly on top,
Slowly my teardrops,
consented to stop. (Lapiz!)

I impressed Mr.Bellis,
He asked for some more
My little son loved it;
in fact, he had four!

The lesson I learnt
is simple and wise;
Make trifles of failures,
that keep refusing to rise.
©