National Poetry Month 08 – You asked me not to mourn*

You asked me not to mourn for you when dead
Because the woe for those who love you so
Would be too much for you to bear when fled;
Yet memory of you I count not woe.
The hand that wrote your beauteous line is
So precious in my mind. My ‘mastery’
Of words and metaphor have come from this:
The pouring of my heart and mind to see
Just how your lines and rhymes are shaped from clay.
With joy I gaze upon your lofty verse,
Enraptured in your freedom from decay,
The richness of your name daily rehearsed.
I write this sonnet but to sing, not moan—
Your name lives on long after you are gone.

 


*This sonnet is a reply to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 71, “No longer mourn for me when I am dead,” on the 400th anniversary of his death,  April 23, 1616.

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~ by hankimler on April 23, 2016.

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