#921889 added October 10, 2017 at 11:17pm Restrictions: None
Petrarchan Sonnet: "Pippin's Field of Victory"
Embrace the sweet of Pippin's cloud of smoke
as salted pork upon your weary nose
quick tickles tongue, ignited, now it flows.
The passions of the body smell and stoke,
Excesses mar the hobbit in a stroke?
Or could it be aroma like a rose
longevity creates as body grows?
At modern wisdom we would laugh and poke!
The century is lived by those, who eat
their pork, while smoking cigars ev'ry day.
Just live your life with sun each morn to greet!
What joys of hope so lovingly replete!
They had no experts that they need obey.
Aroma lives in lasting friends we meet.
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