1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum