Not So Sure

As I lead the fed,

It leaped on the pink bed.

The elements sparked up,

To form a taste without a haul up.

It ran on the mind,

Delighting in all of the kind.

Rest was left unsaid,

As it was full of the fluffy spread.

Tried it once and savoured it twice,

To peek on it, to leak by the end of the lip, wise.

And it dropped a little when you held it there,

It showed how I was unprepared.

I was not certain on the dish,

But it surely felt like a converted wish.

It could be a sundae, spaghetti or cheese,

Only to be keen, it will definitely please.