1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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