1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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