Last night, before bed I set out on a quest To concoct a cake for the fae in the light of the fool. A hybrid creation consisting of a graham crumb base. A butter tart filling poured in a pie fillings place. A recipe created for specific taste. With practical constraints in mind. Baked at 350 degrees for 36 minutes. Out of the oven by quarter to midnight. Left on the counter for cooling Covered to prevent the cat's drooling I draped a tea towel a top To hide the pie from sight. I checked the treat this morning Thinking, "into the fridge it should pop" I quickly caught on to my misfortune The tea towel had adhered to the top. I tried to gently pry The cloth off of my pie But alas she has been scalped Here brain matter exposed But im sure she will still taste the same I suppose. This sweet confection just needed to let the air reach inside her head. Allow the knowledge of the atmosphere To be absorbed In order to be fed. I'll share her with friends this evening Enough sugar to ache all our teeth, And we can laugh about her bad haircut As we sit and eat.