1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
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
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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