Do you think your tongue so sugared dear
that all are enrapt by the sweetness of your words?
You are not the candy, alas, I fear
you think such things without the truth you are absurd.

Do you think your eyes are chocolate-bitter
that they speak to the little boys you’ve snared?
You are not the candy,  nor the apple fritter
just another hapless fool that love has dared

to push the limits of propriety.
Do you think that you are so pure as sweet?
Even in the whirlwind variety
of your foolish youth, such love is incomplete.

Sugared lips, and candied hips and a crushed walnut
do not true love create
Set back your dreams and girlish schemes
before it is too late.