1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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