billy@calico.UUCP (Billy Green) (10/06/86)
SONNET #1
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"All my best thoughts were stolen by the ancients."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
When I had fears that I might cease to be,
I often sat alone and read for hours.
I asked myself, "To be, or not to be,"
As I sat amongst Coleridge's flowers.
I opened up the book. I saw the line,
"When I have fears that I may cease to be,"
And thought again. I thought that thought was mine,
Yet here it stood in print in front of me.
New thoughts seemed scarce--not only out of reach,
But out of the question. I stopped and thought again.
I thought of Prufrock pondering his peach.
Then I looked back upon the words of men
And met a traveller from an antique land who said,
"The poetry of earth is never dead."
(With apologies to Keats, Coleridge, Shakespeare, Eliot,
Shelley, and to Keats again.)
Billy Green
{seismo, decvax, philabs, akgua}!mcnc!calico!billy
"Lord, it's just like living in a pome, (sic)
I like calling North Carolina home."