Sugar stars sprinkle the licorice sky.
A silver banana-moon glows.
Brown pretzel bushes and cinnamon stick trees
Shiver and sparkle below
In the miles and miles
Of the piles and piles
Of crushed white peppermint snow.
If you had a cherry—a hundred or so—
For this mountain of marshmallow creme
Dripping with chocolate shadows that roll
To the banks of a butterscotch stream,
And some boulderish walnuts,
Then we could devour
My hot fudge winter ice dream.