Before:
Licorice
gives me
the icks
even when British it sticks
in my craw.
Anise is always a flaw.*
(Though I never saw this kind before,
it's out the door).
After:
Licorice,
give me
a kiss.
I see now you're Irish
and that I've been childish
to call you a foe.
Here's less woe and more sweet:
Black Jack's a rare treat.
*exception: I can appreciate a shot of Sambuca after a heavy Italian meal, for some reason.
p.s. We're almost through the UK Snack Sampler! Oh, and have a happy Poetry Tuesday!
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