An unobtrusive hedgehog in a yellow pork-pie hat,
A plainchant sung by theorists, but just a trifle flat,
An argument for clemancy dressed in a natty suit,
The space between two lampposts playing on a German flute.
A taxonomy of flora with a rather worried air,
The first three snows of morning with a chocolate to share,
Agreement between picture-hooks, the foxgloves under threat,
A Chinese attitude to yeast: I haven't finished yet.
Though Christmas puddings may aspire to dreamy introspection;
The office of the minor third has no sense of direction;
Four narrow prunes are spitefully extended by the night,
A trojan sparrow aims to please the specious lazulite.
A fine romantic attitude, reluctance to begin,
A nervousness at playtime, a carriage clock of sin,
A fixed smile on a frightened face, a notebook never seen,
A worthless waste of time, a crime. Yes, that is what I mean.