Strawberries

Slide back in the kitchen,

Stoop down small and listen,

Someone’s coming;

Sugar, flour, candles in arms,

Salt, grease, and some charm,

Strawberries running;

Safe to say the path is clear,

Steady, no time to spare,

Shadows spinning.

Stare to the left and right,

Surely we’re all out of sight,

So, take off;

Silence all the way through,

Security forces had no clue,

Soft coughs;

Stop, re-check the route,

Surely, it’s sweet as fruit,

Succulent and soft.

Someday we’ll share it all,

Stories of a birthday ball,

So, for now;

Sliver the strawberries on top,

Surely this job could be cropped,

Sitters, please bow;

Spare some icing for tomorrow,

Sealed in the bowl we borrowed,

She’ll grin.