PINCHES

Drizzles of peace
Upon me perch
Although I now miss
Those soothing march

O'er this troubled thumps
A return I plead
Break these life's bumps
With your peaceful lead

Only if it were
Very possible a task
The rind of morrow shall wear
Yesteryears mask

A glare into its eyes
At memories asleep
Shall be otherwise
A soothing lovely leap