"We thought we smelt some madeleines
ala Les Temps Perdu.
We whiff'd once more and...Zut! Alors!
We whiff'd once more and...Zut! Alors!
'Twere more oDOR de loo.
(The loo near Speakers' Corner leaks;
still, patrons stand in queue.)"
Each verse in the poem below selects from two to four beverages, (pick'd poisons), the last- mentioned of which is always crème d...