The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
The North Wind Bites into his architrave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
The best of all things to an end must come