“Oh dash it all!” cried he,
in tones most desolate.
“Pray tell me, chaps—have you observed,
my toddy’s wayward fate?”
“…before the friar’s gate
it vanished, quite without a trace,
like empire’s fading gleam,
one sip too short of paradise—”
“But now it’s gone, my liquid soul,
my heart’s one true desire.
Perhaps the spaniel took a nip?
Or Auntie, in her cups?”
So searches he with monocle
and cane in trembling hand,
while Britain’s rain weeps softly on
this tragic, toddy-less land.








Powerfully penned, Adagio. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you, Damian.