1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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