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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum