Twas the week before Christmas,
when all through New York,
not a supper was spicy, not even some pork.

But the community gardens were nurtured with care,
with the hopes that some flavor would soon be there.
The foodies were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of peppers danced in their heads.

When out in the Bronx there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
all flavors of Small Axe Sauce Peppers were here!

Now Ginger, now Ghost!
Now Serrano and Jalapeno!
On Green! On Red! On Mango Habanero!

To the top of the plate, to the top of the bowl.
Now spice away, spice away, spice away all!