Hello, hello!

[recipe_in_rime]

Hungry poets, come to me! You sons and daughters of verse and famine, let me feed you, and read you your lyrical lyrics to me!

I've got sonnets in pastry and poems on souffle, and I'm more than willing to share--in fact, my friends, that's all I want to do.

So come, come, and have something to eat while you write!

Typist: Ragueneau, from Cyrano de Bergerac. Oh, dear.