Long ago in Timbramil
There lived a princess fair
Upon a lofty hill she dwelt
A crown adorned her hair

Her name was Princess Tourmaline
She rarely ventured out
So little had she seen of life
She never went about

One day her fathers Squire came by
He persuaded her to go
And look about the world a bit
Her agreement was quite slow

But at last she ventured forth
Through the garden gate
She saw the flowers and fountains there
And lingered til quite late

Her little feet were growing tired
so unused to walk
so she rested with the Squire
to have a little talk

Ah! then the princess saw a snail
Beneath the scented trees
Her face became quite pale indeed
She fell upon her knees

‘What is that?’ she asked the Squire
‘that spirals round such flesh.
Do the people eat these things
And do they eat them fresh?”

The snail looked up in total shock
”Surely you aren’t FRENCH!?” he said
Curling tight within his shell
and fearing he’d be dead

”Oh, he spoke!” the Princess cried
The Squire looked away, unsure what to say
The Princess took the Snail straight home
And kissed him every day

The moral of this story is
‘A chance remark and innocence
Can make us fall for anyone
And lovers have no sense.’