1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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