The Dramatic Pudding
The custard flows through
broken dams
Destroying cake based wigs
and wams
The Isle of jam so hard to
find
Cut off where yellow rivers
wind
Their way through valleys
wrought from sponge
Enclosed by seas of bleeding
gunged
The God of spoons comes
crashing down
To rip asunder pudding town
The warm inside exposed to
air
Is swamped as yellow fills
the tare
A floating island then ascends
to where the God of spoons
intends
To dump its burden, come back clean
Returning for the custard
Queen
But sponge fights back with
molten jam
To burn the tongues of beast
and man
Yet men with wisdom rarely
frown
Since jam and custard soon
cool down.
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