1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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