1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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