In The Kitschen Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

as she basted the lam
with cherries and jamb
it turned out for the wurst....
did she add too much kirsch....?
'wasser madder with you...
should be pinker than bleu'
said her lover, the gnoman,
home from velodromin'
'want it pink, so it squeals...
takes the spokes out your wheels...?
I just knows how I feels
when the sauces congeals....
how 'bout some pineapple...
or a plateful of scrapple.....'
she said, with a grin.....
downed another sloe gin....
'don't get in a tizzy....you'll deflate the fizzy'.....
he countered, 'roast goose....with a side of blanc mousse....
that's what I was expectin'....perhaps piggy with pectin'
by that thyme she was sleepin', so he went a-creepin'
to the fridge, ate the plums....
.something wicked now comes
into town, rode a wagon.....
white-feathered...with flagon....
it all depends, you know....you'll see...
on one's appetites.....and the letter 'd'