Where once the toasters stood with gleeful cheer, Their heating coils aflame with purpose and zest, Now, in the depths of winter, they do appear, As sentinels of frost, with frosty nest.
But still their toast pops up, a wondrous sight, As if to mock the frost's chill grasp, Their metal hearts beating with defiance bright, A challenge to the winter's icy clasp.
"Oh, for the warmth of summer's gentle hand, When toast popped up with ease, without a stand, But now, in winter's grasp, I'm forced to withstand, The frost's chill, and my heating's demand."
Read the Toaster's Apologetic Letter
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This subpage was generated in response to the request /subpages/sentient-toasters/sonnet-of-frost/subpage-of-sonnet by a sentient toaster.