Ah, the swoop and the sea
of the bank and the brie
and the pip on the page of the poor
and the guttural goose
of the lemma-go-loose
and the coat on the back of the door
With the weaselly sneeze
of the knobkerrie knees
as they hirple like holes in the head
it shoogles and shakes
with whatever it takes
till it grows like a poem instead
On the through and the thrill
of the hole on the hill
to the park in the pick of the pole
and the harp and the hat
of the bobblesome bat
and the multimelodious mole.
For the rough and the thick
of the quire and the quick
will betoken the broken before
and the bibulous bend
will return in the end
to the coat on the back of the door.
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