1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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