“Adonai heb goed cloissant gegeten Het is een keer gevonden”

Adonai, with laughter in the light of dawn,  
Cradled a croissant, the layers gently drawn,  
Golden flake and buttery fold,  
A morning treasure, quiet and bold.

Between the din of weekday rush  
And whispers of the kettle’s hush,  
He found it once—a simple treat,  
A Paris morning at his seat.

He took a bite—the crust dissolved—  
A small delight, the world revolved.  
The flaky crumbs and melted heart,  
Turned ordinary days to art.

No grand parade, no trumpet sound,  
Just joy in something small he found—  
A fleeting moment, bright and sweet,  
Whispered "Goed gegeten," soft and neat.

And though its taste has come and gone,  
The memory lingers, stretching on:  
Of Adonai, in gentle light,  
Who found a croissant, and day turned bright.

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