1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
← OPEN dataBase