As it might have been written by John Keats
Enraptured, I can wander here for miles;
No Levantine bazaar has more allure.
The shelves beguile me more than any tour
Of ruin’d temples on Aegean isles.
They ne’er run out of bread--there’s always piles—
Their fruit is ever fresh, their cheese mature,
The check-out girls are charming and demure,
And fairer still than Helen was, with smiles
That make each moment’s queuing seem a joy.
Potato waffles, Wotsits, Snickers bars,
Exotic oriental leaves--bok choi--,
And gherkins too, display’d in crystal jars.
Such dainties are the buyer’s to enjoy,
And stir me more than any dusty vase.