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A poem dedicated to Debbie Brown the decorated cake guru. |
I had a little baby, as cute as she could be, I really didn't know then, what was in store for me. For every birthday party, and celebration or event I found myself a baking, and it hasn't let up yet! Each time I had to think up, a novel new approach I couldn't make the same one twice, that would be too goache! Then before my eyes in Dymocks, I saw a w'ndrous sight The most amazing cake book, I'd seen in all my life! No more flat cakes for this Nigella, no mere trifle for her child No, now I was going all 3D, with THX surround sound! We've had ponies, and small kittens, movie themes and then, I've found myself in Debbie's books, looking for inspiration. No more broken bits of lace work, or piping RSI, I'm channeling my inner child, and desiging on the fly. Of course.... Each cupcake now, is a work of art, it cannot be left plain Each cookie and or biscuit, will never be the same. No, no ordinary baked stuff, the standards are too high It's always pomp and ceremony, it could really make you cry. And her ghost may be heard, as you pass by that kitchen nook Cursing Debbie Brown and that bloody Dymocks book! |