1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase