Hang on, stitching together your page...
Is Marisand aware he’s gone too far?
I worry Aeronwy may be compelled
to raze his smirking mustache handlebar.
My dear, you hear that far-off tinkling bell?
That signal’s one to which I must attend.
A customer desires my dealing arts.
I know: so many ways did he offend.
But knot your fists and wait while he departs.
That man should fear my fury and my fire.
Revenge on him, assuredly, we vow.
I’d rather not. Instead, let’s rein our ire.
This evil isn’t something we’ll allow.