"Attend now, good folk, to a tale of love and appetite bespoke. Where courtship meets the supper plate, and passion is served never too late.

I, smitten and ever hungry, find not just love, but calories.

Thus is unfurled our ode of feasts and destinies."

Since first I courted thee, my dear,

I've grown more round, front to rear.

The blame is mine, thou art not rude,

I chase delight in pursuit of food.

Thou eat’st like sparrow, I like steed,

When food is near, I rise to feed.

Thy plate retains what I do lack,

Thine scraps be gone, I shan’t hold back.

Prithee, wilt thou consume yon sausage? (That one)

That one, which on thy plate doth wait. (If not)

If not, I’ll seize it in brave homage, (that one)

And straightaway masticate.

Thou say’st, “Why not?” so calm, so taut,

And MARRY! That’s hot!

Pray. MARRY! THAT’S HOT!

I bid the butcher bring me steak,

And thou the same, for kindness’ sake.

I need it not, yet oft it’s true,

Three parts of thine end up as chew.

A bowl of soup! A cauldron of stew!

A monstrous sweet! Enough for two!

“I love good fare,” I dost declare.

“And more than that, I love thee true!”

Prithee, wilt thou consume yon sausage? (That one)

That one, which on thy plate doth wait. (If not)

If not, I’ll seize it in brave homage, (that one)

And straightaway masticate.

Thou say’st, “Why not?” so calm, so taut,

And MARRY! That’s hot!

Pray. MARRY! THAT’S HOT!

Prithee, wilt thou consume yon sausage? (That one)

That one, which on thy plate doth wait. (If not)

If not, I’ll seize it in brave homage, (that one)

And straightaway masticate.

Thou say’st, “Why not?”—thy tone still mild,

And MARRY!... That is wild.