I’ll make some cake, beneath the blocky moon tonight,
Sugar and wheat, by torchlight’s gentle glow,
Eggs in my hand, the chickens cluck in flight,
Crafting delight where only creepers grow.
One bite, and hearts restore, the hunger fades away,
Frosting like snow on roofs of clay and stone,
I’ll bake for you, though mobs outside may moan,
Sweet as the day you stayed, not just passed through.
Crumbs on the crafting table, love laid bare,
In this squared world, you’re the rarest spawn I share.