A poem
By Kiley Kellermeyer
In the cold, murky wood,
Against good advice,
Rode a charming young prince
Through grim wind and ice.
The night shrouded the path,
An ebony cloak.
The snow blew around him
Like billowing smoke
A thick branch struck his brow.
From his steed he fell.
The white horse carried on
Through the frigid hell.
After five dreamless hours
He made nary a cry.
Inside a bright cabin
He slowly revived.
As his pale eyes opened,
And he came awake,
He breathed in the richness
Of what smelled like cake.
He shook hard as he rose.
And with fear he said,
“Oh, I need save the girl,
The lass I must wed!”
“Can you not stay right here?”
Asked a sweet voice.
“Must you now marry her?
Or have you a choice?”
He followed the voice
That flowed smooth as silk
To a maid with red lips
And skin white as milk.
His mind was ensnared in
Her calm and clear tone.
“I stay with thee,” he said.
“I shall never go.”
“Aye, then take a warm bath,
It will feel grand, sire.”
She pointed one lovely hand
Toward a tub on the fire.
“When you are done,
And feel fully baked,
I shall get to my work
And make you a cake.”
The prince smiled widely
And hopped in the pot,
Not knowing he was close
To the end of his lot.
The beautiful young girl
Came after an hour.
In the prince’s pot she
Dumped sugar and flour.
“What are you doing?”
asked the prince with a wince.
And with horror found he
Could not budge and inch.
“I’m making you a cake,”
she said with a smile.
“Mix prince, eggs, and sugar
and stir for a while.”
Two lessons to study
In a story profound.
Do no fall in love fast
Based on how one sounds.
The second lesson’s odd
But so very true:
In the woods never take
a cake offered to you.
