I wait in jars or boxes tight, a golden round of pure pastry delight. You swore you’d have just one, then stop, but now the sleeve is at the top.

With every encounter, I dwindle and shrink, Transforming from solid to naught in a blink. Though covered in lather, I keep secrets deep. What am I, the guardian of cleanliness you keep?

From cursed seed I swiftly rise, a spiral path to stolen skies. I pierce the clouds with greedy grace, To reach a giant’s hidden place. What am I, whose sudden bloom, led a boy to gold, and wealthy boon?

I’m sunny and sweet, a breakfast delight, but peel me wrong and I’ll put up a fight. One squeeze too quick, and oh, you’ll cry. Why may you ask? Because I got you in the eye!

I go before time, shot and door, but after window, big, and smoke.