1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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