1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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