Petrarch

A luscious chocolate Petrarch, with or without iambic pentameter

O, Petrarch, your caramel ganache cream

Surrounded by milk choc'late, and inlaid

With jeweléd pralines, that from nuts are made

Dissolves in mouths as softly as a dream.

The taste, enough to make young females scream,

Some Italian bloke

Their bosoms heave, their inhibitions fade.

It fills their minds with thoughts of getting laid;

Their cheeks flush red, their eyes begin to gleam.

The fine taste that my torrid tongue engaged,

Enraptured all my sweet taste buds to bloat.

I grinned as pleasure flowed throughout my brain,

and yet, whene'er I've read your verse, I've raged!

I wish that you had ne'er a sonnet wrote,

For writing this has driven me insane!