1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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