A Bun in the Oven

​Mr and Mrs Baker, a plan they did hatch;
To add a member to their family batch.

Baguette met bagel, with seeds to sow;
Creating a new and precious dough.

This dough was delicate and kneaded care;
Adding any ingredients they had to spare.

Mrs Baker’s oven inside her tum;
Helped raise the dough to a tiny crumb.

Growing from a crumb in to a bun;
The baking time was almost done.

Whether rye or granary, the Bakers weren’t fussed;
They’d love him always, no matter the crust.

Ping went the timer, out came the tin;
Their life as parents was about to begin.

With a gentle tap on the warm tin back;
He came out perfect, not even a crack.

Looking at the life upon her lap;
Mrs Baker fed him from her bap.

Content after what felt like hours;
In came family with gifts and flours.

Hugs and kisses came in droves;
From various flavours of various loaves.

Parents at last, they shared a sob;
Holding close their little cob.

Taking a moment to smell his head;
Nothing smells better than freshly baked bread.

By Paul Webster