1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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