this flinger of plurabilly teas

sang twice upon a time

good time it was two pigeons in a line.

a fat man a-coming downa road

toadja who was a-coming downa road

a nicens-a-little boy named paddy buckoo.

her mother sneak him that story

rather clucked him in deep glory:

series-us-ly sin, sin, O! Jesuitical-sin

nothing quite like it for keeping yous thin

through a grass darkly chat smartly

whatsthat group of slimes and turnips

fat, thin, fat, thin; always melding, erstwhile grimm

in a circus a bonny wee face at t'table i trace

doilies n tea pots n black holes in space
she has a bonny-babymoocowface,

white milk, lemon tea, black knight, big fright,                                       opposite me

she sangalong sweetly sinewed so she'd shine

line by bloody line:

“Oh why is my life in a minor key?

Oh! why do words all-a-mutter to me?

Half a pound of twopenny rice

Half a pounded tree-fell

That’s the way the monkey blows

Plop goes her nerve-cell.”

Had she a goblin’s pretty shoe
Had she taught him what to do? yellow plaits, dumb with fright, came to see her late at night

green-cross handy-codes for all the tippling cosy toads; she sad a wood beneath her fleet oh! she had only her seams to dream on
spread her seams like a sickly mess
be careful of a well-pressed dress.

?