Whacked the asshole at calembour where his short-lived calefaction was too flimsy a fussy pot
Not to calefy him at the exit from the calefactory,
Like sailors of yore that had calenture to worry about
To gourmandize the chalices of golden hills
Whereon above the calidity ,nefarious vultures and caliginous clouds of the primrose bank
his caliculated and caliciformed hunt of treasure trove was smash hit and the colours of rainbow
Calking the calking roll of this murky primrose bank
Like a cleat on the horse shoe,callant of golden hills
Call a halt to this calliopean drifts and callathumps of murky primrose
"Oh did he say his calvarium was bliss
To bliss him through the calliopsis?
"You mean?"
"Were you not born with the sound of the bow bells to scattershot,buck shot with the king's English and lo set Thames on fire?"
"Come again?"
"To say that his skullcap,zucchetto across the culottes of dashpot bliss him through?
Let me tone down that his rise to stardom was an easy ride?"
"Oh I see you now my Londoner.Not quite an easy mode.
But what magnetic fields and magic wand did you know?"
"Stake calvarium in your dancing cavalry.Hence the world is your oyster."
"Ummm "
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