an ode to the coca bean

how well do i love thee?
let me count the ways-

i praise thee in skinny jeans lindt,
thy thinness fair appealing,
mine heart sure desiring,
thy melting my tingling.

i adore thee pregnant and swollen,
oh lindt thy blessed name be!
scarce i wait till the brown barriers fall,
yet find thou greater than any shopping mall.

i remember thee plump with promise,
i cherish thee cursed with aneroxia,
for be thou filled with still more savour,
or sorrowing with aluminum valour,
mine eye any how wilt favour,
forsooth- thou knowest i am thine

but.
n'er was mine heart more sure,
nay, nor more true,
the day i tasted thee in royce,
so fine- i changed my name to joyce.

though the clock chime twil
and though my paper on the morrow be ill
i swoon before thy feet
and pant for our next meet.

sweet, sweet royce-
whose cousin be rejoice
i make thee my choice
and scorn all other boys.