Elven Berry Cream

It’s true, the afternoon is young; I’ll make a bet: Before the sun has set, Strawberries will have sprung From underneath your tongue. Delectable, yes, tres delish You won’t forget: Exceeded, not just met, Beyond your wildest wish, A creamy berry dish. The finest, richest creams - The forest elves Again outdid themselves: Confectionary dreams From unicorns, it seems. In fields of magic dust, Wild-grown berries Picked by woodland fairies: A culinary must, A name the elvish trust. Sweet crystals, careful mined Where dragons roar, Demanding always more. By serpent’s fire refined, Then stolen from them blind. Stirred over elvish flame, The paddles turned By giant ogres, learned Before before the dark lord came and sullied their great name. Quick-flashed in icy streams, Both fluff and stiff, A jazzy berry riff, With old world notes it teems, A tastebud’s wettest dreams. Alas, we must regroup! Supply chain blues, There is no time to lose: Store-bought, pink berry goop - Perhaps a double scoop? ————— for the Ice Cream Poetry Contest sponsored by Julia Ward written 06/21/2022