Of course not burned, would be so gross;
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?