1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
← OPEN dataBase