The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The genealogist with field and fess
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum