Ode To My Pipe
ODE TO MY PIPE
Whomsoever doth smoke this pipe,
Should be prepared for an easier life,
For the stress and strain of the troubled soul
Are as but vapour in its bowl.
When filled to brim with fragrant stuff
Then tamped well down, and lighted up,
The essence from its mouth will flow
To ease your path where ere you go,
For the guardians wrapped about its stem,
Are the nemesis of weaker men,
And all your pain shall be but sod
Beneath the feet of your chosen God.
Copyright © Simon Cooper | Year Posted 2016
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