Pleased to me you. I bet you are.
A rather classy lady lace. By far
The nicest of my spots for tea.
I’ve seen a few, believe you me.
An olde time feel with many floors
And nooks and cranny’s but open doors
The old dears congregate along the front
Where sweets and pastries bare the brunt
Of high teas with a dash of cheese
With Bruno built walls and potted trees.
It’s like a place I knew quite well
In Budapest, but you can’t tell.
It smells so new, not quite yet soiled
Perhaps a big weekend might spoil
The ambiance of a country inn.
Oh crap, me tea… let me begin