The Dessert

Upon a crust of golden sleep,

Where shadows fade and sorrows keep,

A quiet fire begins to glow,

To heal the heavy heart below.

First comes the dark and earnest base,

Rich as the earth in warm embrace,

A solid ground on which to build

A promise that will soon be filled.

Then pours the flood of amber sweet,

A glowing pool of summer heat—

The marshmallow of dreams unfurled,

To smooth the edges of the world.

And crown it all with shards of gold,

Of roasted stories yet untold,

A crisp delight, a sweet release,

Brought forth in simple joy and peace.

Oh, bite into the rising dawn,

And taste the dark that now is gone;

For every crust of doubt and care,

Holds hope—within a S'more Tart's prayer.