1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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