The Scent of Cinnamon Buns
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The scent of cinnamon buns and childhood,
big, fluffy, soft, a tad sweet- oh delight;
mother made the best so ooey-gooey and good,
warm from the oven topped with icing white;
I could have eaten the whole pan in one bite.
Mother made exactly six buns for each,
there was one for me, my two sisters and brother;
she would set them down and we would reach,
quickly she picked up the best one for father;
and in short order there was one left for mother.
So delicious, cinnamon, brown sugar and icing,
but it is not just the buns but it takes me back;
turns back time for me to a place in my life enticing,
before life and sadness made our happiness crack;
mother's prized recipe is still my favorite special snack.
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February 21, 2018
Poetry/English Quintain/The Scent of Cinnamon Buns
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9962-37-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, The scent of baking bread . . .
sponsor, Sara Kendrick
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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