I enjoy writing sonnets. No idea why really. The other day a blogging friend and oft times poet Willow at Willowdot21 posted a poem about literary geniuses of yesteryear. Check it out here and her eclectic blog. It was a delight and reminded me of a poem I wrote years ago with the same sort of theme, this time around poets.
See what you think. Can you identify both poets and in some cases their poems?
I’ve lost years to selfish myopia,
A self-inflicted Miltonian curse;
Ne’er imagined such poetic utopia
When reading Chaucerian verse.
I’ve honoured the Bard from a distance
Whose Marvel’s have Donne me no good;
And Swift has been my resistance
To Keats’s autumnal soul-food.
And when Hopkins near sprung me from prison,
I relapsed and began doubting Dylan.
But, at last, I’ve changed my prescription
Revealing a lost world so rare.
I can now read that famous inscription:
“Look on my works, enjoy: don’t despair.”