Author's Note:
With all due respect to the lofty William Wordsworth, this parody is dedicated to the unsuspecting youngsters on whom "The Solitary Reaper" was thrust repeatedly at school.

Behold him, single in the fridge
Yon solitary chocolate plain
Wrapped and ribboned by himself
Waiting for the eater's gain.
Alone he sits and keeps himself
Fresh and luscious on the shelf
O speculate! For they so blunder
Who do not taste the brownish wonder.

No coffee bean did ever send
More warming smells to weary souls
Of travellers at the break of dawn
Among the midnight coals.
A potion so magical never was stirred
At full moon by the witches' herd
Breaking the vows of Gods divine
And sweetening their grand design.

Will anyone resist his deep allure?
Perhaps the pious people think
Of scandalous cocoa tales from yore
Or devils tottering from the drink.
Or is it some more humble fear
A will to resist something dear?
Some masochism or disdain
To never taste of chocolate again?

Whatever the reason, the chocolate was
The best thing to have been existing
I saw it sitting in the shelf
And its force was overpowering.
I ate it when no one was about
And as I felt it melt in mouth
My taste buds that sensation bore
Long after there was no more.