1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come
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