The First Supperclub

It was a blustery September day,

Autumn leaves and crisp cool air

The guests had been invited, the food was in the pot

The table had been polished and the glassware spic and span

A five course feast was bubbling away, a chef begins to fret.

The diners came – on time – no less, and wine was poured, yet not

a drop was spilt

The mussels broke the ice, with saffron, thyme and zest

English bubbles, Rabbit, and Barberra ensued, the guests relaxed

and felt, like this was something rather special

A members club, a secret night, a feast, a treat, a gourmandise

A Supperclub, no less.

 

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