Burnt Cross Buns

 

Sitting in the oven are the hot cross buns
Where the heat is rising and it’s hotter than the sun
Watch them blacken, watch the growing smoke
Alas, the fire alarm is blaring and it’s no joke

Call your daughters and your sons
Come and weep for the hot cross buns
After such a tragedy, what can you do?
Start all over, make another batch or two.

 

 

Sadly, this poem is based on a true story. And if you're looking at the picture thinking, "Those don't look too bad," those are the hot cross buns that survived. Pictures weren't taken until after the charred ones had been donated to the trash can. Luckily, the redemption batch was perfect.