Sonnet 18 (parody)

sometimes too sharp the chili's fire doth bite,

and oft the lime zest, broth's flavour dimm'd;

and every taste from taste sometimes declines,

by chance or by the chef's capriccio untrimm'd

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but thy eternal fragance shall not fade

nor lose possession of the savour thou ow'st;

nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade

when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:

so long as tongues can taste or mouths can eat,

so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

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