It is in Iambic Pentameter.
Oh Cookie, soft with crispy edge abound
and roll in cin'mon sugar in my soul
for oft shall cookie goodness find profound
as grains of spices stirred then roll'd in bowl
How glad your puffy center moist and true
that such delight has Jove 'pon oven spray'd
His Pam of Wonder, might from such you
From Cookie Sheet your freedom ne'er delayed
At Hundred Thrice plus Fifty for degrees
Your oven rack too high or low, but no!
Your velvet crumbly shattering in breeze
In presence thine all other cookies blow!
But Soft, my Snickerdoodle beast am I
for with your gift so tasty I repay
For shall I rend, devour thee, oh, aye
And also thirty or forty of your closest friends, punk.
There may additionally be milk.
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