1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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