Words by: Lord Brian Ambrose O’Driscoll

It twas a warm Summer's day, when to me they did come,
"You're the finest cook we know. Would you please make us some?
A Royal feast for Yuletide, we wish you'd put together
Something to warm both body and mind, during the winter weather."

"It tis a great honor you show, asking me that to cook
I'll put my brain right to the task, and give my recipies a look.
And come up with a feast you'll love! This you'll find I will.
Some things that their Majesties love, that will just fit the bill."

When Fall first came I was satisfied, that I had succeeded.
And come up with a good menu, that was just what was needed.
Four removes with three desserts, to make quite a treat
A fitting feast for King and Queen, to sit down and to eat.

But near to September's end, the Autocrats came back,
And told me for the Yule Feast, some information I had lacked,
The Queen she could eat no meat, the King could have no bread.
And if the Seneschal had salt, then he could fall over dead

Then back to my work went I, making adjustments needed.
But All Hallow's Eve, my menu their advice heeded.
Twas then they told me of, Princess Margarete
Eggs and cheese, nuts and broth, All these things she would not eat

All through November's cold, my menu kept rearranging

As allergies came to light, causing it to keep changing
This Baron could eat no fish, his sister nothing Green
Keep away dairy from the Handmaiden to the Queen

As December's snows came down, I figured out one last menu
The only way to please everyone, at this important venue
All that I could finally serve, was water in a glass
Next time they ask me the feast to make, I think that I'll just pass.