Image courtesy of Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales
Pardon me, good sir, I meant no harm
yet your stare tells you think otherwise
Please, my apologies for disturbing
what must be plaisirs épicuriens
What? Why do they not see, not hear?
The gentleman espies a fascination,
while the ladies perhaps think him mad,
or full of the luthier's ministrations
But, you, mon ami loup,you miss naught
Yes, I know, the blade at my hip gives you pause,
too big to be at table, the roast is but wee!
Ha, ha! A joke, but the road is full of rogues
And the way here was fraught with peril
Men such as ourselves must protect our persons
No, no, my friend! Eat, drink, get your fill!
Relax in the company of your peers!
I would not get between a man and his meat
This traveling stomach knows scarcity of feast,
and surfeit of famine, the body needs it trencher,
While my blade and I await you, in the garden