So, there on Writer's Almanac is Shakespeare's Sonnet.. and much as David Bleispeil says he's a better playwright than poet, how irresistible to fool around, in 14 lines.
I was told by a few well-meaning Australians that mine was no "true sonnet" -- but here's to fooling around. A little Beatles, a little Shakespeare.
Working with Sonnet 65
As I get older, losing my hair
the ephemerally lovely breezed out to sea,
then do I watch beauty be air
and rage at the siege of battering days, for we
know our stronghold of sinew and bone
ticked into breath, shall be kicked out alone.
I borrow Will’s question and repeat his bid,
“Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid?”
His black ink, still shiny, how can it be
his love still bright in this century
not cracked on friable, wreckful rock?
But there’s the ticket, to unlock the lock
that ink waves into depths words only suggest,
so we die, so we love, let beauty take the rest.
**
penned in March 2010 -- copyright kj.
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