Of deserted looks in vain words be still
this self-consuming art
beside the oak a wrecked boat
of cut-out trees in the rain forest!
upon a misty peak that hides from eternals,
a fair view of the world in subtle reality of the mind,
of what hath passed o'er in a twilight dream
against e'ery flower upon a barren heath
under the Archangel's brow my shipwrecked dreams:
the last scope of days that are gone in my bed of crimson joy
hath her first falling winter snow in rosemary garden,
dovetailed along the pavement of cow parsley
a hawthorn of cloven-hoof, wiggly-wobbly lagged in
by the waded lots of wonton mire,
heavy step weighed down by my bagpies,
tugged in with gurgling goggles, clawed jaws served with
a green-leaf tea, take for morsel e'eryliving breath
of skipped beat my pulse, tells no time
away from high heavens in much stifled stance
of thy lady fair, my age-old love,
a hat-on-knees in ruffled feathers,
pricked with a furr coat in the cellar-barn,
fell from myrtle some dry leaves of book in autumn
of hay stack and straw,
darkened earth's infernal grove in slumbers deep,
be my only woe of clay and wattle-made thistles by the stream.
(C) Hamnet Shakespeare
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Date Created: Saturday 06,2016.5: 36 PM