The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
From cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum