I wish that I could sing as sweet
As gods with wings upon their feet
That I could dance their dervish dance
Spin round and round in mystic trance
For maybe then I’d write like Keats
Rhyme deep as Yates, who reads like Yeats
Lay lovely lines like Lakeside Bill
Each one a golden daffodil
I wish the sound of skylark’s song
Would make me weep, would let me long
For girl, I\'d breathed for, who once broke
My heart, by bitter words she\'d spoke
For then my rhymes would breathe romance
They’d gleam and glow, and at one glance
My friends would all be wooed and won
Would worship me with their, ‘well done!’
I wish my pen would kiss like quill
Of Sappho, then my page I’d fill
With teardrop words from clouds of fire
All beauty-bled from dark desire
Then verse composed in naïve youth
I’d passed off as inspired truth
I’d burn, like corpse beneath its shroud
Replace with poems pure and proud!