Santa Barbara Della Pizzeria
Divine and crunchy the pizzas that you serve,
Sweet the liqueurs I get but don’t deserve!
Your eyes are dark, and moist they are like dew,
Shooting darts with power to pierce me through.
Pardon please an odd and pious hope.
I think your case should come before the Pope,
I’m sure His Holiness would gladly canonize
One blessed with power to make those hot mince pies.
Strange thoughts have I while, waiting on this seat,
I see your smile before I taste the suite.
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