The plums, which you stored there on ice,
I have eaten; they went in a trice.
If you meant them to last
For a morning repast
Then I’m sorry, but boy were they nice.
or
Some say the plums will end in tarts
Some say on ice
From what I’ve eaten ’round these parts
I hold with those who favor tarts
But if they had to vanish first
I think I know enough of guilt
To say that for consumption, chilled
is also good, and would suffice
or
Plums by here, my dear, plums by here
plums by here, my dear, plums by here
plums by here, my dear, plums by here
In the icebox, plums by here
Someone’s hungry, dear, plums by here
Someone’s hungry, dear, plums by here
Someone’s hungry, dear, plums by here
In the icebox, plums by here
Cold and sweet, my dear, plums by here
Cold and sweet, my dear, plums by here
Cold and sweet, my dear, plums by here
In the icebox, plums by here
Someone’s sorry, dear, no plums here
Someone’s sorry, dear, no plums here
Someone’s sorry, dear, no plums here
No breakfast, no plums here
[Update: after Williams, of course]