The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
The Turks said just take anything you please
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum