1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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