1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
← OPEN dataBase