Pudgy Doughboy With Rosy Red Cheeks Presses Nose Up Against Window Of Chocolate Shop
BOSTON—
His woolen mittens dangling from the ends of his sleeves and his mouth partially agape in breathless wonder, a pudgy doughboy with rosy red cheeks is currently pressing his round button nose up against the display window of a local chocolate shop, sources confirmed.
The astonished butterball, his cheeks aglow in the biting cold, is reportedly flattening his plump face right up against the shop window, occasionally wiping the fog from the steamed-up glass as he gazes longingly at the sugary confections contained within, his mind dancing with possibility, his eyes wide with wonder.
According to sources, the sight of a fresh tray of bonbons being carried ever so tantalizingly to a display table near the front of the store has caused the transfixed doughboy’s eyes to glaze over in an almost narcotic stupor of yearning and delight.
Reports have also confirmed that the intoxicating aromas of melted chocolate, sweet cream, and fresh puff pastry wafting out of the shop’s just opened door have merged in midair to form a veritable olfactory symphony in the roly-poly tot’s imagination, each delectable scent drawing the little piglet’s flushed cheeks closer still to the glass, an inaudible “Wow!” forming on his drool-glistened lips.
At press time, the doughboy’s impatient mother was grabbing him by his coat sleeve and rushing him hurriedly along down the street.
Found @:
http://www.theonion.com/articles/pudgy-doughboy-with-rosy-red-cheeks-presses-nose-u,34792/?ref=auto
Hmmm…
A young man just loves all sweets,
He likes to consume the treats;
He looks on and dreams,
Of sugary creams,
Like candies, and pastries to eat.
On the glass he presses his nose,
As his sweet anticipation grows;
The scent of it’s nice,
Like sugar and spice,
He’d devour them all I suppose.
The kid’s a bit over weight,
He walks with an overweight gait,
The sweets make him fat,
His stomach’s not flat,
But he thinks his shape is just great.
His dear mother pulls him away,
From his intoxicating gaze;
He can’t see the stuff,
His mother’s so rough,
He must wait for another day.
© 2013 Ronald J. Yarosh
All rights reserved.
Humorous Interludes by Ron Yarosh 
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