20091217

A Sonnett to Pizza, lovingly entitled: "Pizza Mia."


I wrote this sonnett in a Renaissance Poetry class, and though my memory now fails me as to the details, yet I do remember something about a pizza-filled review session which I would not be able to attend. Regardless, it was evidently inspired by the throes of a passionate hunger for pizza. Enjoy!

~

PIZZA MIA.

Away with all this talk of studied verse,
For each new word reminds me of my curse:
I see the pepperoni, never mine;
And cheese, possessed of such a flavor fine—
my splendid, absent mozzarella wine—
O Pizza dear, for you alone I pine!

Some blessed day this May I may consume you
And in my darkened labyrinth entomb you.
But 'til the sun ariseth on that morn,
I rub my vacant cavity, forlorn.
This longing wills that I had ne'er been born,
But here, I think, I am, and I am torn.
If given minutes, months, or million years,
Pizza—you would quench my hungry tears.

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