1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase