Pizza

The following poem was a challenge from my son. The parameters were to write a single stanza poem. It must rhyme and have meter, and it must be serious. -…and it must be about pizza.

Margherita’s brio – fruiting low and bright,
where Raffaele’s dream still sings in red.
A hand, like trumpet vine, still kneads the night,
as time and flour cradle what was said.