1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase