1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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