There I was, just loafing around, when I thought I should write one more crumby verse. Rye-ly I settled down at the keyboard. With a mumbled prayer I croissant myself and settled down to work. Fortunately I found I could rise to the occasion, at yeast one more time. All I kneaded was inspiration. So I bagel your indulgence for one more verse.

Aine is queen of Challenger's all,
She sets 'em up, we make them fall,
When she reads them she's so pleased,
When she finds her buns have been squeezed!

Or is this toast considered a browned nose verse?