M-m-m-m-m air of sweet, sweet heaven
As Auntie Sweetooth ‘til half past eleven,
Swings with the squirrels and drunken birds,
Breaking up the day into halves and thirds,
Home of the chocolate paradise of the pallet
As Auntie swings like her cousin Alec,
Breathing in the aroma of the intoxicating air
Dressed in her red, white, and blue underwear.
’Til her dying day doth she swing to and fro
From branch to branch like a flying buffalo,
Stuffing the chocolate in her big fat mouth
Then heading north from the depleted south.
Heading toward the final resting place
Goes Auntie Sweetooth stuffing her face
Up to heaven of the chocolate paradise
From her Cacao Tree of heavenly spice.

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Charlotte B. Williams
26 days

Love Chocolate.

Robert L. Martin
27 days

I don't know anybody who doesn't like it. That is my favorite dinner course.

Nelson D Reyes
28 days

What a perfect day for a perfect poem and a sweet subject.

Anybody who likes chocolate is a friend of mine!

Like. Thanks Robert.

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