Hot Fudge Sundae

The ornate thick glass chimes like a bell

Holds magnificent creams let me tell

The generous lass mimes like a spell

Me making a dent, deems me hard sell

Decides to show me how men are grown

She spoon digs in high near cream twirl cone

Beg her to let be, now,   please I moan

She is Captain Bligh; cheer fills her tones

Dark warm fudge that gleams as it slides

slow

Diced black walnuts top of whole flow

Real whip cream not beam of wood, I trow

Bright, red, cherry... but Time for a row!

Yell at my waitress, Be a big creep

Snarling, cup clutches her hatred seeps

Big me, she bosses, she sees me weep

Like a Grand Duchess lifts guy-shape heap

Share, she said soft, shy; I- fit to be

tied

We'll divide the Maraschino, I replied.

-----Mr. E