Bellisimo is her beauty,
as she leans down towards me,
and though she's slightly gooey
she looks as delicious as can be.
Fantastico is the scent
that wafts up to your nose,
the tower of desire is meant
to stay still forever and pose
for the artistic demonstration
that my knife and fork can do,
on the marvelous conception
that the chef says, "Just for you!".
Now you're getting kind of sweaty
'cause the cheese is lookin' good,
"Bella, what an italiana body,"
before your mouth completes the mood--
Tuck your napkin in real tight,
(because you don't need a mess)
and you prepare your appetite
because this lady needs a caress.
Her meaty, complex texture
and soft Italian crust
will give you a sweet lecture
of how to properly lust
after a complicated delight
that answers your greatest call,
listen well and she'll whisper her plight:
From your hunger, I will never let you fall.
So here's to sauce-covered mouths,
knives and forks after the war
that remind us of our youths...
with a belly so full, good luck getting to your car.