Neither did I. But it is. A friend of mine (Brittany W., for the record– who I don’t think blogs, but has some lovely notes on facebook. I’m not giving her whole name just in case she wants to deny she ever knew me.) had the supercool idea to post a poem everyday, and, given that there are only eleven days left in the month, it looks like a pretty good idea to me, too. I just love sonnets, though I know they are less fashionable than they used to be. The turn at the end is always so delightful. It’s always a kicker. That’s why I like short stories, too, for the record. Right when you think the story’s done– BAM! something unexpected happens. It’s like getting a face full of cold water. I like the surprise of it. Anyway, sonnets and poems and National Poetry Month. Here’s my contribution for today:
by Michael Drayton
Since there’s no help, come, let us kiss and part, —
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one joy of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love’s latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,–
Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.