At five precisely out went La Marquise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum