1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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