Guilty Pleasure

Apparently, the very first word I said was “choc” as I pointed to the cabinet where my parents kept their stash of the good stuff. Here’s a poem that celebrates my lifelong love of that rich dark magical pick-me-up.

Oh choc-o-late, seductive beast!
Lounging in the store,
Confident that in the end
I’ll end up buying more.

Dark and rich, and awfully smooth,
I’m led into submission.
I take you home, and there alone
We get into position.

Slowly peeling back your wrapper,
Candles, music playing,
I run my finger down your form,
Teasing and delaying.

Then I put you to my lips,
My insides start to quiver,
For as you melt into my mouth,
Wow – You do deliver!

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