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Devouring Time, blunt thou the Tiger's paws, And make the course devour his own sweet spine; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce Tiger's jaws, And orchestrate thy wrath to his hair line; Pave long and winding routes through bulging trees, To upraise his scores and his faded drives; Send him toward a new love that rides on skis, Then whisk him to still more adult'rous thighs; O, carve more with thy hours my foe’s frail discs, And serve new lines beneath his nasal range, Induce once more a hopeless harebrained frisk, That pours tears on a love henceforth estranged. Time’s tragedie must thrust upon us all, That love cannot be found in a golf ball.
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Feb 16, 2018 20:51
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| # ¿ Apr 19, 2024 16:33 |
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