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Jerónimo showed me Tia María

and Cointreau, how you mix them for the fumes
that fueled this marvelous logorrhea
until the eagle with milk chocolate plumes:
From Square to Plaza, mission to misión,
the colonial cloak marks this era; 
I am closing this chapter in my tome
but its characters will live forever:
Why? The chocolate was too sweet, too tasty
for its flavor to lift from my smart tongue;
chase a salt chip with cool water, hasty
to hold hands with the undisputed One:
Eyes were glossy the whole time we rode back;
Geronimo! And you jumped off my back!
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