1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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