1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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