Pessoa, Shakespeare, Blake, and Donne
Well mastered forms of verse, namely the sonnet;
Compared to their works, my verse equals none
With poems of flying dwarfs and one blue bonnet.
To hear the muses' voices is an art--
The more one hears the more he can compose;
Upon few, though, the muses do impart
The blessed breath from which one's talent grows
So send to me your voices loud and clear,
Dear muses, that inspired the greatest bard;
I long to write a sonnet that comes near
To those of Milton, Vega, and Petrarch--
And since the gift of verse came not at birth,
I need your grace to may make my words of worth.
- Ash, Fall 1995