1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come
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