Toast to the Lassies

Oh my love, like a piece of toast.
Of course not burned, would be so gross;

Not underdone, nor overdone

But of course a piece, the perfect one.

A lassie may prefer her toast,

Perfected is the way of most.

Not as it comes, like the way of men;

It won't "just do" popped up and then

Placed on a plate with slapped on jam,

Hits the table. Here's your breakfast. Slam!

But perfect form this golden slice
Of life, timed, done right at any price.
The melting butter upon it spread,
The marmalade or jam for toasted bread;
Accompaniment of fine Nutella,
I hope that I can be your fella:
And if from grace I have once fallen,
I hope that I can come a callin',
Butter side up, I land in favour,
The taste so crisp and one to savour,
I am no fool: I bear in mind 2 second rule.
Would you be a person oh so cruel?
Wholemeal, seeded, like golden dust,
A toast to you dears. Would you be my crust?