1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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