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Willed Words

Soft you now– what visions rise from that phrase which sounds of hushabies and winsome ways, or conjures damsels in enduring plays with celebrated scenes that e’er amaze! One maiden proffered columbine and rue, yet could not tender blooms of violet hue. To take is not to give– still ‘twas not true when twisted villain gave a ring to woo. The walking shadows tell their tales of woe, before to dusty death they’re called to go. Tomorrow and tomorrow creeps its pace as time pursues us all in ticking chase. Yea, pageants may dissolve or cloud-capped spires and sweet birds sing no more in ruined choirs… But soft, beloved Bard, abide in peace! The wonder of your words will never cease! ~ Harley White

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Kurt Ravidas

Date: 6/2/2019 10:41:00 AM

Shakespeare is a miracle indeed, whoever he was. On a personal note, he was a spark who lit a fire of my love to English poetry)

Kurt Ravidas

Date: 4/29/2019 11:02:00 AM

"The wonder of your words will never cease!" Then so be it. Your tribute is so beautiful, Harley, that mine is just a pale shadow of yours. P.S.: I was glad to remember the discussion about the "soft you now" problem I had a pleasure of watching in the near-literary circles long time ago)

Harley White
Date: 4/30/2019 9:25:00 AM

I see your poem as more personal and autobiographical in its tribute. For me, Shakespeare is a miracle, and I wanted my poem to be an homage. Indeed I meant the last line, and his inspiration in my own works will never cease...