1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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