A Dotty Ode To Love

 

O Sausage of Cumberland,

Thou art beauty in pork,

thy fizzle, sizzle on my grill

when I prick thee

with my fork.

 

O how I love thee,

thy juicy, meaty blob;

thine chewy lumps taste heavenly

when I shove thee

in my gob.

 

If I were handed

the golden sun above,

I would decline, O Sausage of Cumberland,

and ask for thee, 

my one and only love.

 

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