From bearded wheat and fresh ground white sugar
With grated lemon peels and eggs and love
Come tarts, that baked salvation: flavor pure
Enough to make seem charcoal black a dove.
The wheat and eggs, sugar, and lemon peels
Begin apart, and brought together braid
Taste, texture, phase and form to spinning wheels
Of hope. A bargain at five dollars paid.
Five dollars paid for thirty luscious ticks
Of vibrant, sinful, masticated bliss.
Those minutes all consumed swift by licks
--Tarnation in each blissful sugar kiss.
From baker's hands come the elect To feed our urges so degenerate