1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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