Sour
“Sweetbreads!” said the waiter.
She wished she hadn’t asked.
She wished she hadn’t eaten it.
She wished she hadn’t turned green.
She wished she hadn’t ordered
for desert the assiette of sweets.
IÂ wished I hadn’t eaten it,
eaten sweets for my sweet.
Not on top of my own sweet.
I wished I hadn’t turned green, too.
“See you at breakfast,” said the waiter
as we staggered off to our room.
“Sweet dreams!”
Perfect title! Funny and smiley poem… except, obviously, for your protagonists! Don’t think you need ‘too’ afar ‘I hadn’t turned green’. And ‘staggered off to our room’ would make a very satisfying last line!