The boy with the pancake hands was crying,
wiping tears of milk from his spongy skin,.
He had just been told he was probably dying
by the doctor of flour, with his powdery grin.
He slumped to the butterscotch floor weeping wildly,
his fingers clenched in battery fists,
He did not see the raisin man creeping tiredly
on his way to the market through the coconut drifts.
The raisin man furrowed his crinkly brow
and titled his head to the tangerine skies,
for it was not good for him to allow
himself to be other than perfectly dry.
‘Why all the tears?’ the raisin man sighed
as he warily sheltered his fruity head,
but he could not comprehend, as much as he tried
what it was that the pancake boy said.
‘The eggs! The eggs!’ he spluttered and sobbed
-his words were frantically spoken,
‘the omelettes have come, and we have been robbed
and their shells lie shattered and broken’.
The raisin man paused, unsure what to do
and sat on a sesame seed;
‘I don’t understand how this affects you
though tragic it is indeed’.
The pancake boy gestured to his doughy form
and kicked at a liquorish tree,
‘don’t you understand that since I was born
that the eggs are a part of me?
Without them I’m done, can never grow stronger
I’ll be tasteless’ he howled with a sob,
‘all I desire is to live somewhat longer
how I curse that cruel omelette mob!’
There was a wisdom in the raisin mans eyes
his voice was rich, stern and slow;
‘I can help you, but first you must rise
to the bakery we must go!’
With no time to waste, on a marshmallow eagle
through burnt orange skies did they soar,
the pancake boy was starting to feel feeble
as they arrived at the bakery door.
The baker was a kindly man,
and listened with care to the tale
he then ushered the pancake boy into a pan,
as his face grew alarmingly pale.
He added some water and margarine,
With a huge wooden spoon he mixed,
his friendly eyes glazed, then began to gleam
for the pancake boy was fixed!
The raisin man gasped at the pancake boy’s change
amazed at what he was seeing,
for the baker had managed to entirely re arrange
the ingredients of the pancake boys being.
‘Now eggs are not needed’ the baker shone,
‘You’re something else instead.’
So the pancake boy lived happily on,
as a scrumptious loaf of bread!
Image courtesy or artspot.org.uk and Mike Behnken @ Flickr.com