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.