1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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