O Miele! you’re such a honey –
sans a fridge, my ice cream’s runny
and my ham smells really funny –
sans a fridge.
Gosh, a freezer’s such a wheeze –
sans a freezer, what the peas? –
(and my milk would turn to cheese)
in a smidge.
In the 1800s Prinny
ate a lot, both furred and finny,
but so much went in the bin – he
had no fridge.
Fridges grant our global wishes –
tropic veg, Pacific fishes –
I can stash Lucullan dishes
in my fridge.