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Edgar Guest - The Frosting Dish
Work rating: Low

When I was just a little lad
Not more than eight or nine,
One special treat to make me glad
Was set apart as "mine."
On baking days she granted me
The small boy`s dearest wish,
And when the cake was finished, she
Gave me the frosting dish.
I`ve eaten chocolate many ways,
I`ve had it hot and cold;
I`ve sampled it throughout my days
In every form it`s sold.
And though I still am fond of it,
And hold its flavor sweet,
The icing dish, I still admit,
Remains the greatest treat.
Never has chocolate tasted so,
Nor brought to me such joy
As in those days of long ago
When I was but a boy,
And stood beside my mother fair,
Waiting the time when she
Would gently stoop to kiss me there
And hand the plate to me.
Now there`s another in my place
Who stands where once I stood.
And watches with an upturned face
And waits for "something good."
And as she hands him spoon and plate
I chuckle low and wish
That I might be allowed to wait
To scrape the frosting dish.
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