Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb