Standing on the blue sand
I met a man with a oblong mouth.
He said “I am a tomato logger
and used to be in a cycling band.
My father was a pyramid beggar
and feared becoming a potato swain.”

While holding aloft a glowing tuba,
I looked up, up to a floating grove
of candied trees, A hawker in chaps
of green feathers cried
“Marbled cheese, marbled cheese
makes you whistle and groan!”

Then I stepped to the edge
of a creamy marsh. A mailman
tipped his calico cat and exclaimed
“When the plants recant, 
there will be an utter uproar!”

As I departed on a bamboo scooter,
an elderly woman in a technical dress
pointed to me and assailed:
        Do not succumb 
        to the sickly physics
        be level and civil
        be civil and level.