Mother has been baking,
the cake sits on the table with pride
“Do Not Touch” – says the label
propped up by the cake on the table
that’s been prepared by the three
especially for tea.
But Horace he is hungry,
and the cake’s there on its own
he’s snook into the kitchen
not knowing his cover is blown
thinking what he will have with it
he’s wondering in a dream
not knowing his Dad has spotted him
he’s thinking of custard and cream
No one will know – he’s said to himself
hovering around it like a naughty elf
but to his shock – his dad does rise
and saves the cake – he’s lost the prize
as he comes in and puts the cake on the shelf!
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