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# A Small Triumph
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/a-small-triumph/
- Published: 2026-04-05T19:34:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T20:09:55.000Z
- Description: "A Small Triumph," a deeply unserious lament about the glowing end result of a ludicrously long five-part recipe, written Easter Sunday April 05, poem 095 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Embedded poem (PIP - poem in poem): “Showstopper,” a Haiku. Photo, "Showstopper," by D
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: 2026 Poetry Challenge, Faux Lament, Haiku, Humor, Petty, Poems, Rants, Unserious, A Small Triumph, April, Baker, Baking, Easter, Family, Hinge Pic, Holiday, Lament, Michelin, Paul Hollywood Handshakes, Phenomenal, PIP - Poem in a Poem Bonus!, Pistachios, Pride, Prize Fish, Showstopper, Spring, Strawberries, Tart Joy, Tart Trap (TM), Tounge-in-Cheek, Tour de Force, Tragedy, #Migrated-1792872215677, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-10-24 20:03

It's a burden to be   
Phen-*Ohhhhm*\-En-Al.  
  
It's the tragedy   
of a job well done:  
Everybody, truly,   
loves my baked goods.  
  
To be blunt, if not demure:  
Paul Hollywood Handshakes  
are inevitable around here.  
Woe is this Michelin-ish Baker.  
  
And now,   
on this Easter,   
the buzz is buzzing   
once more.  
  
After an hour of Sunday maceration,  
my berries in heart form and  
resurrected as sugary gems,  
are ready to grace the surface   
of my exquisite verdant field of cream,   
in turn nestled in shortcrust.  
  
I carry the tart to the dining room.  
I hoist it to my front, as if a prize fish.  
Pose with it like it's my Hinge pic.  
\[Let's be honest, a Brad could never!  
*I* bring all the swipes to the yard.\]  
  
My sister captures a snap   
on her iphone.  
Proof of my perfection   
is in both the pic *and* the pudding.  
  
*\[PIP: Poem-in-a-Poem bonus!\]*  
**It's my Showstopper:** 
**Strawberry Pistachio** 
**Red and green Tart Joy.**  
  
I grace the feast table with my  
dish, one three days in the making.  
I admonish the gathered diners,  
with 1:1 ratio of drama to warning.  
  
I announce, like That Person:   
"I hope you ALL ENJOY THIS,   
because this is the very   
FIRST AND LAST TIME   
you will ever eat this dish!"   
  
(I am a believer in   
Unreasonable Hospitality.  
Am I doing it right?)  
  
The eager holiday guests  
feast upon my elegant,   
indulgent, ruby chartreuse glory.  
Their hungry mouths devour  
the forkfuls of luscious cream,   
crunchy nut, crisp crust  
and sweet berry morsels.  
  
The way their eyes each roll back  
in their heads like a school of sharks  
in a chummed water feeding frenzy  
belies that they did *not* heed me.  
  
And, gosh dangit, then they all groan.  
They sigh.   
Their faces alit with pleasure.  
And the relative who never, ever  
touches dessert, asks for seconds.   
*Seconds!!!*  
  
Thoughtlessly, they exclaim:  
They want it again!  
They want it more!  
They want it next time!  
  
Fools! Did they not listen?  
No of course they didn't.  
And now I am condemned  
to creating this tour de force   
***a - g - a - i - n.***  
  
I see it. I hear it.   
I grimace.  
It has been foretold   
by their moans.  
  
This is the new family favorite.  
I take a bite, and I have to agree.  
It was an all-day prep   
plus a second all-day bake  
plus a third half-day of finishing.  
  
A marathon   
bout of perfectionism that  
resulted in a transcendent dish.  
A true Showstopper.  
  
I have fallen, so very deeply,  
into   
the   
**Tart Trap (TM).**