My dear mother brought me down the path that I still tread,
It began with such a simple thing, a store bought loaf of bread.
The bread went in the toaster and the handle went down clack,
The toast came up a crunchy brown, and so began my trek.
From very early in my life our toaster did its job,
Day and night with all its might, it toasted bread by gobs.
I toddled to the table and Mom sat me in my chair,
She kissed my pinkish little cheek, and stroked my long blond hair.
She sat before me on a plate my favorite breakfast food,
Crunchy bites of toasted bread. Oh boy! They were so good!
I sopped them in my soft boiled egg and thought myself content,
Then stuffed them in my eager mouth and down my throat they went.
Through growing years of ups and downs, my mom was always there,
To give me what I needed most to cure my every care.
If I was sad or sometimes mad, Mom knew just what to do,
"A piece of toast will fix you most," she told me right on cue.
Many toasty years passed by and I became a wife,
My spouse and I are dedicated to our toasty fun-filled life.
He told me once with laughter as his eyes grew bright with tears,
I've eaten more toast since I met you, than all throughout my years!
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