Four centuries
before I was born
Will Shakespeare arrived
on the planet.
Four centuries ago today
Will’s body died
but his voice remains,
his words will still enthrall,
for centuries.
Four centuries
before I was born
Will Shakespeare arrived
on the planet.
Four centuries ago today
Will’s body died
but his voice remains,
his words will still enthrall,
for centuries.
They cluster about
like vampires,
smiling sycophants,
their eyes glowing
with delight,
basking in your presence.
Their good intentions
would suck you dry,
if you gave them half
a chance.
.
.
File under: Things I Learn from Watching the Greats in Action
Her eyes twinkling with fervour
I introduced the devotee to the star of the evening.
Without preamble she leapt into analysis
of the opus, confusing words, likely erroneous.
The star gave me a glance with eyebrow raised
and I offered a half smile and shrug,
as graciously she said
“Oh, yes?” and turned to her next supplicant;
dismissing the devotee withdrawing
on her delighted sighs.
I heard a voice
from long ago
singing
Be My Music.
While I sat at my computer
working away
I found tears in my eyes
Grace would understand
how the music creeps
and pepper sprinklings of memory
burn
I am music
I am words
I am melancholy
I am bliss
I am
beyond this nostalgia
and today’s tune
is the best
song
I could have
sung.
.