When A Minotaur came through.
The sun was bright, the breeze was still
A perfect day to get one's fill
Of palaver with naught to do.
"Weeds in wine! Weeds in wine!"
The satyr his friend offered.
"You'll never find a meal so fine
Than this recipe that I call mine'
Before a day of chasing someone's daughters."
"Meat and hay! Meat and hay!"
The minotaur corrected.
"That's the best choice for a day
Of making sure the maidens stay
Imprisoned and protected."
As of this much later dawn,
The time for myth's grown late.
Though their vocations soldier on
In drinking room and gazeboed lawn,
Such fused cuisine's too monstrous to update:
MINOTAUR, n. A creature with the head of a bull and the liver of a man, a not inconsiderable improvement to both species.