1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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