Creating Another Shakespearean Tragedy

Where art thou?

Post is the day,

With the night almost spent.

Where is my love light?

Without it, I will surely become unsteady,

And am apt to stumble in the night.

Where is my love who has taught the stars to shine,

Which have guided me on such nights as this?

Foul is the northern wind

That would snuff a candle

While it is being lit!

And what of your absence?

Is this some foul trickery?

Is this some evil witchery?

Has a hag turned thee into a beast,

And I can not understand your howls,

With you altered, incapable of a knowable voice?

Yes, this must be the path to my harvest.

Love would not replant itself,

When it had foundĀ  such fertile ground.

Yet, here I stand alone admitting impediments,

And I am shaken from this tempest.

Answer my cries; allow me to lament no more!

By chance do my eyes simply deceive me

AndĀ  I am turned an ass

Conjured from my own jealousy?

And I using my own tears have created the hags brew.

Thus, I, not familiar with loves book of spells

Am only creating another Shakespearean tragedy.


◄ Abandoned children

In the center of your calm ►


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Fri 23rd Feb 2018 14:26

Thanks, I was afraid I was to far off the mark to suggest I was doing it in the poem (last line). So, I appreciate the comment.

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Martin Elder

Thu 22nd Feb 2018 22:28

I love the style of Shakespeare's work reflected here. Leaves me wanting more of the same
Nice ene

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