1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
← OPEN dataBase