Friday, December 4, 2015


                           Give me, O Muse, my daily sonnet,
                           And place your brightest blessings on it
                           That it may sing in praise of grace,
                           Rising above things bad and base,
                           For poetry should celebrate
                           What things in life are good and great.

                           This poem itself is no such song
                           To join such sonnets in their throng
                           But simply a meek invocation
                           Of what may rise to true elation.
                           Consider this an exercise,
                           A modest little enterprise,
                           To limber up my vocal cords
                           Not meriting praise or rewards.