A sweet poem. Literally.

Her Snickers she did withhold,
As I laid Hersey Kisses
About her with few misses.
It felt like Payday, truth told.

Her SweetTarts were worth a grand.
With her large Mounds I did toy.
This brought her great Almond Joy.
So much that she grabbed my Skittles.

Her Whatchamacallit called.
My hand moved to her Kit Kat.
She gripped it with such force that.
I found that it was bald.

Her Milkyway was flowing;
In went my Mr. Goodbar.
We stopped once we saw Mars.
Deed, done she laid there glowing.

Thanks to the 3 Musketeers,
Baby Ruth came in 9 months.