A Cupcake Is Born

Early one Saturday morning,

An old London Lady,

Was deciding what to make,

“I know”, said she,

“I think I will bake,

I’ll bake me a big batch of cupcakes”!


So she got busy,

And worked herself into a tizzy,

Fast she wanted them done,

Because she had,

An errand to run.


After they were cooled,

She got out things to make them pretty,

As she liked eye-appealing food.


Little did she know,

The sprinkles would set one free,

One sprinkle had magic ability,

That made that cupcake,

Able to flee.


Out into London’s streets he wandered,

Where exactly he was headed,

He hadn’t really pondered.


He rounded one last bend,

Ending up in the West End,

Near the Covent Garden,

On a street called Drury Lane.


Outside of an enormous structure,

Was a sign for a bakery,

And on the stairs,

Leading in there,

Sat the famous Gingerbread Man,

Petting a cat with a loud purr.


Standing up to shake hands,

And greet the Cupcake,

He said “Hello, I’m the Gingerbread Man,

Who are you?

You look fresh-baked”.


“I’m Clyde The Cupcake,

And yes,

You are correct,

I am a fresh bake”,

Replied the runaway Cupcake.


As conversation kept on,

The hours flew past,

And soon the night was over,

They had talked until dawn.


That was some time ago,

Still they are the best of friends,

They remain close,

Enjoying the fine shopping in that area,

And going to the theatre,

But working for the Muffin Man,

Is what delights them most.


Among their most loyal clientele,

Is that old London Lady,

That Clyde knows well,

She now buys their treats,

Because she’s scared to bake,

Ever since her sprinkles,

Put her Cupcake,

Under a spell.



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