True love has always caused me to wax poetic. I really, really miss ice cream!
I Scream for Ice Cream
A sonnet is reserved to speak of love,
Its form thus structured in iambic beat,
Yet ice cream is the prize I’m dreaming of--
There’s nothing else that I am wont to eat.
The dairy goodness tugs upon my heart,
So worthy of the Bard’s resplendent verse,
Blank canvas for a culinary art,
A true cuisine remarkably diverse.
Tofutti and sorbet are just desserts,
Non-dairy treats I’d rather be dismissing,
Deny me the authentic blend, it hurts;
For coffee ice cream, I’ll be reminiscing.
Beware! These freezer treats bring on brain frost,
But I will take my licks at any cost!
Tomorrow's blog: A Father's Day Tribute
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