1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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