Few things in this world which we navigate,
Are there helping us to quickly escape.
So I solace found in food which I ate;
From soup to bread, and meat and juice of grape.
But the one I cherish, of which I boast,
Forces grown men to stop, and to linger.
Oft compared to hot choc'late and to toast,
It is lapping pudding from one's finger.
One lick is all, and you'll relive the joy,
Of sneaking past your mom to confiscate
The prized possession of each wily boy.
And then indulging in the flavor great.
I stole the taste blatant and not ashamed,
And now alone at home guiltless remain.