1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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