1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb