And here is an idea for a verse for a contest in which the title was given:
Since garlic's a trochee, it's technically fine
At the start of an otherwise iambic line,
But on one received truth you may safely depend,
It's no sort of word to be used at the end.
I've searched high and low for a suitable rhyme.
If only, let's face it, one solitary time;
I even ate garlic, for some inspiration,
And the outcome of that was complete isolation.
So the man who chose this for a subject, I fear,
Is either a sadist, or has a tin ear;
I found not one word that would rhyme well with 'garlic'
That wasn't appallingly Salvador Dalic.
I didn't submit it . . .
W. G. S. 1995
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