I sing a song
of the croissant
and of the wily French
who trick themselves daily
back to the world
for its sweet ceremony.
Ah to be reeled
up into morning
on that crisp,
buttery
hook.
Petit Dejeuner
Linda Pastan
(1)
Poem topics: song, world, sweet, morning, daily, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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