From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb