Ode to a Donut, Opus #5 (opus spicatum)

Is a donut from a box
 purchased at a supermarket
  a true donut?

Is a baked donut
 not just some shadow
  of reality but the real thing?

The answer lies within
 yet more questions.

Do they bring you joy?

Do they hearken back to a time of
 happiness and sweetness and youth?

Do they lighten your burden?

Do they delight or inspire or please?

If you can answer "yes" but once to any of these,
 then you have your ultimate answer.

Ode to a Donut, Opus #4 (opus latericium)

A thousand flavours from a maund she drew

Of sprinkle, powder, and of shaved chocolate,

Which one by one she in a vat threw,

Upon whose heated rim she was set;

Like usury applying wet to wet,

Or monarchs' hands, that lets not bounty fall

Where want cries 'some,' but where excess begs all.


Of folded menus she let many go,

Which she perused, sighed, tore, and gave the vat;

Cracked many a ring of chocolate and dough,

Bidding them find their sepulchres in fat;

Found yet more rings gladly shrouded in icing,

With slighted batter and affectedly

Enswathed, and sealed to curious secrecy.

(co-copted from the Shakespeare)

Ode to a Donut, Opus #3 (opus quadratum)

You sparkle like a multicolored diamond.
Your scent is the of sweetest nectar in God's kingdom.

I am enveloped by your presence.
All else seems to slip away when you are near.

You complete me.
You are my everything.

You are... my lovely donut.
I shall cherish you forever.

...or at least for the next five minutes.

Ode to a Donut, Opus #2 (opus reticulatum)

What sweet, calming scent hath entered?
A fragrance deeply inviting.

The donut.

A thing so grand in splendour,
yet so humble in appearance.

It takes on many visages.
A new costume for each flavour.

Yet for all its looks and tastes,
the scent remains the same.

Breathe deeply.
Recall your youth.

Bite and chew.
Rekindle your soul.

Ode to a Donut, Opus #1 (opus incertum)

And lo.

My gaze hath settled upon yonder donut.
It is aglow with frosting and sprinkles.

I approach with care and wonderment.
A touch, perchance a taste?

It yields to my touch and delivers pure
bliss to my tongue and joy to my senses.

Buttery, sugary goodness aplenty.
Oh donut, you have no equal, except...

You should have an accompaniment.

Milk or coffee? So cruel a decision!
My splendor interrupted, I away.