1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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