1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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