Original Palindromes Oldest

To let in a brutal fate, get a flat urbanite lot.

To let in gig, or frog, ignite lot.

To lip, suit no Pontius Pilot.

To lip, tons of UFO snot, pilot.

To nets, ah, no, son haste not.

To O.C.S. I scoot.

To obtain Alpine pen, I plan (I at boot.)

To often let a gang nix obesity, Les, or proselytise boxing, nag a telnet foot.

To Olga, we wag loot.

To Opal, I avail a poot.

To order cassettes, sack cassettes’ sacred root.

To order, Red—root!

To order tan oil, sex, ale… relaxes lion at Red Root.

To Ossie, garage is soot.

To Otis, I toot.

To panic in a pew, we panic in a pot.

To pass, I kiss a pot.

To pass, I piss a pot.

To pass, I miss a pot.

To pat cafe trades I’m in, I maximise it in a sniff of off insanities; I mix a minimised artefact, a pot.

To pat one weasel—if Edna is sure no-one’s procedural—let’s tell a rude corpse no-one Russian defiles a ewe not a pot.

To poll a Gallup, I pull a Gallo pot.

To poo rag, naked I ride kangaroo pot.

To posse: “Manila Ed is a crank narc!” (as I deal in a mess o’ pot!)

To prevent a rat, never pot.

To prevent sulks, I risk lust, never pot.

To prevent sums of units, tangle falafel gnats tin UFOs must never pot.

To profess a time, dared, nude, I rub stars rats buried under a demitasse for pot.

To Raisa, “Did Asia rot?”

To rate Sue, sir, I rise, use tarot.