Tuesday, May 5, 2015


               Great verse not only turns but elevates,
               Exciting rapture with its lyric spell,
               Lifting one into lofty mental states
               That only classic poems can compel.

               The hum-drum verse that poetasters turn
               To please the multitudes is destined for
               Oblivion, while shapely lyrics earn
               Repute posterity cannot ignore.

               They’ve mastered that which is the highest art:
               To seem as easily flowing as a stream,
               As naturally rhythmic as a beating heart
               With no apparent craft or covert scheme.

                    A Grecian urn, though molded, carved and fired
                    Will seem, in time, an artifact inspired.