I used to write little poems for my nieces and nephews on their birthdays and other holidays, and would always give them books. On one occasion, when one of them was about three years old, I sent him a couple of children's cookbooks. He was a real fruit and veggies kind of kid, and had a penchant for strawberries. (One of the books included recipes that featured them specifically.) In acknowledgment of the gift, he wrote me an email my sister must have helped him with—but one for which he was clearly the main content creator. I have never forgotten it; it's one of my all-time favorite poems. It goes like this: "Thank you for the cookbook. I really like it best. I never had a cookbook. Pidder padder pest!" Strawberries and rhyme, plus an adorable nephew. What could be more delicious? There were nine cases of Stawbe* (for strawbe*) in OhioLINK today, and 131 in WorldCat.
(Strawberries in a white bowl, from Wikimedia Commons.)