1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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