The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The understanding critic firstly sees
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The genealogist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Bard I adore your endless monologue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum