1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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