The New Kings of Lyon

Sublimely placed on a cobbled lane, 

the Pilot drops a menu, not so insane, 

on a Sunday, it’s pleasant, peasant fare, 

brunch lasts for four hours, so beware, 

brings you the flavours, Lyonnaise, 

the wine, the food, you’ll be amazed 

then there is the service, I should mention, 

Helen looks after you, such attention 

to detail, each article of cutlery

 placed neatly in front of me, 

as Chef, flushed and fresh from the kitchen 

waxes lyrical on the course she’s fetching, 

silk workers’ specialities, from the French nation 

raised up to a level of such sophistication, 

come where flavours of the Rhône and the Saône 

meet the Beck and peal of Minster Bells, 

proper Yorkshire, greets proud France, 

mixing spices with a Francophile romance, 

we dined, we saw, but they conquered, 

come along, see for yourself, and confer, 

the bistro with the shine of Sheffield steel, 

will make your day with Eddie appeal.