1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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