1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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