1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum