The Lettuce Inn

The Lettuce Inn

With promise made of inns of yore

The townsfolk stood and waited.

Expecting ale forever more,

their thirst could not be sated.


The keepers kept a steady pace

of furnishings and cleaning.

To craft a setting full of grace

it was their only meaning.


Their work left little time for rest

and spirits were diminished.

It felt a never ending quest

but soon it would be finished.


The crowd outside to much chagrin

grew anxious in their trying.

"Oh sweetly, kindly Lettuce Inn

please open up! We're dying!"


But yet was not the time to go,

the folk must face rejection.

The keepers told the people "No.",

for haste makes not perfection.


... I was bored.

When every stool and mug was set

and hearths were brightly burning,

The keepers called, "The time is met--

come in, your wait is turning.


...so was I

Bravo! You matched the rhythm to a T! Well done indeed.

Except we've not yet been let in.