1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come