To Shakespeare

“Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
Within his bending sickle's compass come …”

     “…If this be error and upon me proved,
     I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

(W. Shakespeare)

 

You’re right, my lord,
                             the whole world agrees
With you and your
                             immortal poetries:
May colour never drain
                             from rosy lips,
While we shall ever –
                              tirelessly – keep
Blessing the gift of love
                              in our rhymes!
And we have no doubts
                             that betimes
The lodestar would show
                             from the mist
To guide the weary seamen home
                             with ease
In the vast stormy
                             ocean of life…
… And I’d be ready,
                             through a haze of light,
To feel my true-love’s
                             heartbeat
                                              on my chest!
And – once again –
                              to put my art
                                                to test:
To poetize the days
                              of stolen love,
The happiness –
                              a gift
                                       sent from above,
When veins are throbbing,
                              hearts are filled with gloom…
Love bears it out
                              to the edge of doom!