1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
← OPEN dataBase