Oh, how it shines a golden yellow
and makes me feel so mellow,
but as the days grow older
all the hellos are seized.

I know you are sweeter,
but never bitter,
when it comes to taste of the others.
You seem so delectable
when you are on my table.

The sight of you takes my breath away.
Your aroma fills my heart,
in a good way,
and makes me want to throw you in my cart.

Sill people, you thought this poem was about two people in love.
I am glad to say it is not about affection of one another.
More like the addiction to an object.

This object is no foreign to this country.
I am glad to say my weakness is corn.