A Poetess

Her spirit longs to chase away the fools
Whose stilted words turn harvests into chaff,
And be alone than prize the empty rules
Which guide their lives and prompt the wise to laugh. 

Though Shakespeare, Byron, Shelley, Coleridge, Keats,
Longfellow, Pope and Dryden are long dead,
She’d sooner delve into their metric feats
Than into minds whose dullness weighs like lead.

High praises are a kingly gift, but when
Her mind is numbed by frivolous display,
She leaves the sheep to their ordeal, and then
Ignores what clowns or braggarts care to say. 



Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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