1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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