The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum