This slightly less than idyllic collop was composed for a sunny summer’s picnic in a field on Boar’s Hill that overlooks the ‘Dreaming Spires’. Much wine and many delicacies (but no proscribed substances) were consumed, after which the participants gave to the (seemingly ungrateful) world a new version of cricket, the chief innovation of which consisted of the batsperson aiming for, and the fielders evading, the plentiful cow pats scattered thereabout. Steve also demonstrated his remarkable, and very smooth, way of attracting cows by playing his flute. Ah, blissful, innocent, carefree, whiffy day! However, the last stanza does seem to me a little precious and self-regarding. The Doge precious? Self-regarding? Surely not! (DJ).
Indeed. Surely not (CH).