1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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