From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The understanding critic firstly sees
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb