1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
← OPEN dataBase