We hunt
All tiddly chipmunks
En route to an old town
And had we all the chestnuts
Bagged until it got sagged
We set off in a barque
To the land of golden hawks
Met with an English rose
Who wrote a country prose
We moved unto the pier
Had hummus and beer
The English rose sounds feared
While we danced with the seers
Our turn we had to bear
A lovely visage endears
And had we danced to blear
In the town of great king Lear
©LIL ARCHA
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