The bell rang for dinner quite promptly at eight
And all the guests knew they were not to be late
The first dish was light, just a bit aromatic
Not quite jejune but nothing emphatic
But then arrived something that rallied the group
A steaming hot serving of fresh fennel soup
In a purple tureen, ornamented and glazed
Elated and thrilled, the delighted guests gazed
Voluminous vapors ascended and mingled
Rapturous fragrances quivered and tingled
Circling thrice ’round the jovial hall
Sweetly caressing each cranny and wall
Next came the salad, in succulent shades
Of lilacs and teals and pink marmalades
Dishes were filled with things subtely scented
Not an aroma went unrepresented
Cumquats and cabbages, squashes, potatoes
Crabapple candies with turkish tomatoes
Candied yams, cantaloupes, canapéd beets
Peliculed peppers and pomerade sweets
Artichokes, celery, endive and leek
Oversized olives (both Spanish and Greek)
Rhubarbs and radishes, parsnips on plates
Blueberries, brussel sprouts, tamarind dates
When the meal was done they sat stunned and inert
And nobody had any room for dessert