He bent right down to pick up his valise
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum