1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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