Tiny rainbow specks,
Sprinkled like fairy dust,
On a buttered slice of white bread,
The simpliest of snacks,
We were once fed,
The tiny balls of color,
Bled into the softness of the crust,
leaving little markings behind,
Of something we could never have enough of,
We would await beneath the cutting board,
While the knife spread a buttery layer so thin,
On a white paper plate,
While we patiently awaited,
The colorful dyed dust,
Never tasted like much,
Yet it held a childhood magic,
Canvassed on the crust,
It gave no nutritional value,
Never even filled us up,
Yet I remeber our fairy bread,
Being magical and made with much love.
About the Creator
Rilee Arey
I am a professional life romantizer, with a heart that feels everything deeply. I am a moment collector through words and the ways around us.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments (1)
Never tried it before, now I might.