1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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