1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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