Said the oyster, ”Do please tell, Mr Whelk, your curly shell;

I’m intrigued as to how you got these whirls.

Ours have such an ugly skin, though the beauty lies within;

Every now and then we manufacture pearls."

Said the whelk, “It isn’t clever, it takes patience and endeavour,

To accommodate my fast expanding figure.

I build a new extension, with an increasing dimension,

So every year it gets a little bigger.”

It was at the dégustation, they exchanged this information,

Just before I slipped them down my throat.

Less salty was the oyster, though considerably moister;

Perhaps a touch more lemon juice I thought.