Puffed pillow tops of vanilla extract,
Golden brown bodies making a pact,
To savor the flavor of sugar and spice
Packed together in flour, for this is it's vice.

A dollop of cream swirling to heaven
Enticing as it sounds, don't eat seven.

Sink your teeth into one,
Feel the cream bump your nose,
As your taste buds come undone
And your lips begin to fully enclose
All the saliva and crums that try to run.

Crunch the crisps.
Feel the wisps.
Get a baked good kiss.
Enter pure bliss.

The cream on the wrapper's edge is the best,
Always lick it after the rest.
Don't be dissapointed, it's not over right now,
Go ahead and have another, if your mouth will allow.