1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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