1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
← OPEN dataBase