1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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