By Priscilla Larkin and Sharon Shannon
Her warm brown skin,
Creamy white grin,
She calls to me.
Enticing me to sin,
Tempting me to give in,
She beckons to me.
With great chagrine,
I let her enter in,
Ahhhhh ... Little Debbie.
And as I swath tongue
Through her richness, among
Dreams lost in chocolateness--
I realize, late,
Naught else could sate
This song, yet unsung.
Ahhhh, Debbie, delight!
Neither morsel nor bite
Nor Twinkie entice
This palate anon!
Nor HoHos arrayed,
Nor Dove Bars displayed
In grandiose spectacle
Shall such eager taster dismay!
Crumpled, your wraps tattered
Lay carelessly scattered,
I let them remain
Forgotten, ungathered.
And homage I pay
To the Queen of Feasts Junque,
The Empress of Foods Funque,
The Goddess of Bronzed Silk.
--Now, who took the milk???
© 2001 Priscilla Larkin and Sharon L. Shannon