1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase