I think that I shall never see
a pizza lovelier than thee.
Its sausages so plump and round
against my mirthful mouth, abound.
A pizza waiting close of day
when mouths shall open up the way
to gobble gulps in front of my TV.
To savor its red, roundness that I see.
Upon my bosom lay remains
that Fido soon will munch, retain.
Oh, lovely was that pie for me
and for my Fido, munching free.
(See: Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees”) Prompt: write a parody or satire based on a famous poem.