1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum