1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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