1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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