Hola calle. I am not sure whether I understand the nature of your request. However, here is a poem you asked me to write for you:

Cashews gleam like golden moons,

Velvet curves, the sweetest tunes.

Walnuts sit with wrinkled frowns,

Heavy crowns from autumn towns.

Cashews melt, a buttery cheer,

Walnuts crack, but feel austere.

If taste decides which nut should reign—

Cashews dance, while walnuts plain.