Succor (not born every minute)

stranded on a

dessert isle

in sea of caramel topping ,

I swam across

that sticky sauce

snacking without stopping,

the shore I reached

was Sugar beach

a shining bit o’ grit,

which crystaled sweet

stuck to feet

to belly and to hip.

and so I left

before my heft

rendered me a whale,

in search of flavor

that I could savor

and jerry-rig a sail.

prompt: desert