Equine ordure sweet roses manure
Prince Louis's mime
most Regal procession deplore ordure
sweetest roses, newly sprung
grow their roots deep down in dung
carriages at colourful trooping
did force their way through horses' ordure
more than one young prince, at least, could endure
Brilliant, this poem comes out smelling very sweetly.
This made me smile this morning for sure!
Now there's something quirky before breakfast! I'm not sure I'll sniff roses quite so deeply in future. 'Ure' again...