That which brought Sammy the most joy

Was a bit too nutty—vey oy!—

And about it she was quite coy—

For hers was not an acorn ploy:

No, she chipped each monk an ahoy

To merit ends of saveloy

To be tree-sneaked past glade’s octroi

For nosh with stash’s fresh bok choy

Upon blanket of corduroy

Under eve’s stars-and-leaves alloy. ; )