1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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