The eldest of all is named John:
I'm afraid he's a bit of a con:
sacrificing a pawn,
and then, with a yawn
announcing your queen is now gone.
I've also a sister named Madeleine
and if you feel like some wit battlin',
a little pate addlin',
or need verbal paddlin',
just call her all hat and no cattlin'.
I roomed with a brother named Peter
whose tooth couldn't be any sweeter.
There was nobody fleeter
for licking the beater,
or wolfing down tarts by the meter.
I've also a brother named Tony
Whose portraits of all--fat to bony,
the earnest, the phoney,
the saint and the crony,
are a jewel for the whole patrimony.
If you were a game, my dear Angie,
you'd be Candyland, not Jumanji:
your coffee's sucrangy,
your soups are blanc mangy
and even your duck is orangey.
The strongest Albert would be Dave,
but he shares our famed weakness to cave
in to puns, to engrave
crosswords, and to crave
caffeine only fit for the brave.
The youngest of all goes by Larry,
whose wit is quite sharp, so be wary:
it's chill when he's merry,
but if he's contrary
he can roast you so fast that it's scary.