1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase