Forgotten Prose

I belong to a book discussion group at our local library. There are about a dozen of us that meet once a month and discuss a book that we all agreed (voted) to read. At each meeting, I am usually the oldest participant and I have noticed that our individual tastes for prose varies exceedingly. Myself, I prefer the Classics. The others prefer the modernists works of prose. Consequently, due to our democratic process, my choices rarely are voted for. Anyway, the situation inspired me to compose a sonnet for all the great forgotten prose of yesteryear. On dusty shelves the books of dated time have stood for years. Abandoned, slighted lore that years before the favorite pastime discussion topics, literati lords adored. Among the blossomed aging tomes, a rather large imposing book secured it’s stately charm amongst the few unknowns. The title slightly injured and obscured. Author and faithful readers long ago deceased. Along with fragmentary bits of time. Until unearthed, desired to know about its past distinction, this poet alone, composed a special poem for It. Its often called: Shakespearean sonnet.