Drink! Drink! A rowdy crowd sways
The heartfelt sighs of a hard day...

All seems different in our abode
The air boreal, denser...

'Twas in a playground in a school upon a bended...
Adorned with autumn leaves and roots that wring...

Adjure adjure; entreats the scent of a yellow...
alluring a sweet earthy olive fragrance...

A sycamore tree, stands broad and alone upon a...
spring ochre leaves fall upon lush verdure...

As I now ponder through the many years
I sift regrets as if to deal with cards...

(I)
Our precious months have none for charity...

(I)
What miserable virus plagues ourselves...

(I)
No lovelier of cause has pen to write...

(I)
If weary eyes about this classic form...