The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The best of all things to an end must come