1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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