Thank you, Susan. Sheepshit, newtshit and toadshit are on the blocks as I speak.
And here they are!
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
Rent wobbly owl shit in freshwater geyser
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field
Buy thy fine graded sheep shit, indecent lad.
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now
Ho, young zoo lad, devour syrupy newt shit.
Will be a tottered weed of small worth held.
We tell them toad shit, O lewd dwarf belle.
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