To many, they are sweet surrenders
To some, eruptions from boiling wonders
What have we to taste but crunchy doughs
Fried hot as each dives in and flows
One by one they float above sugary sap
Dipped and glazed with cheers and a clap
A name for lokaimat and a cry for bites
Sweet ***** is worth the delights
NHH "Plume"
(From my Album "Homemade bakes from rhythmical melodies of poetry" brought to life…Let the reading take you far and away and you will imagine a bite, let alone a slice, of my goodies salivating down “la gorge” )