Ode To The Tim-Tam

O, Thou art the final, delectable crumb,
All desire to cradle thee in their thumb.
Thou in thine palace of new crinkled plastic
Unblemished, and youthfully bright and elastic.
Thine maker hath made thee for joyful pleasure,
All in the world adore thee beyond measure.
The cracker, the cup-cake are mildew to thee,
The rock cake, the Sao are worse than a pea.
Thou contain far beneath thine surface so neat,
A treasure so soft, and so dark, and so sweet.
A filling of chocolate, that thee only holds,
A beauty unmatched by all else, but gold’s.