The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum