When one with t'other straightaway agrees
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum