1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase