It doesn't specify something in the style of another poet. So here's just me.
Toad-in-the-Hole
Frenchmen go to the dogs thinking horses and frogs
Are the stuff they should put in their bellies,
And those hordes of Italians, as potent as stallions,
Chew pizzas and tagliatelles.
Though a burger and relish may taste pretty hellish,
Americans think it the thing.
But an Englishman’s soul craves you, Toad-in-the-Hole.
You’re the dish that is fit for a King.
Your sausage and batter makes everyone fatter.
Just look at the way that I’ve grown.
I’m so hearty and hale I can now turn the scale
At the best part of twenty-four stone.
You were made by my mum and I’ll not leave a crumb,
For there’s nothing as good in the shops.
No, I can’t get enough of your wonderful stuff.
YOU’RE A TOAD-IN-THE-HOLE AND YOU’RE TOPS!
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