Boldly… staked his claim to a poet’s brag.
He gave his word… promised Love’s salvation.
And so, with upward lift and downward drag
came the wait; the weight of expectation.
Brazenly… gave rhyme to a poet’s shout.
Penned in red-ink… “Love the ever-lasting”
Gave perpetuity no timeless doubt.
Raised the standard (banner, flag and masting).
But, alas… with hope there came no finish.
no conclusion… no evidence of claim.
Nothing of his promise could distinguish
anything of note… Time he did not tame.
. So awkward is the stumble in retreat,
. much better to be humble in defeat.
© Tim Grace, 29 July 2011
To the reader: In the engine room of life expectation is a key driver, a dramatic tool that motivates and energises. It’s also the mechanism that can let loose catastrophe. Expectation mixed with high-octane confidence pushes the needle in the gauge ever closer to the danger zone. As one needle tips to red, others likewise respond; the system is stretched; margins of error diminish; and finally, all tolerance is gone… the gasket blows!
To the poet: The inevitable unrealised… junk yards. Rusting remnants … failed pursuits. Testaments and epitaphs … comparisons. A full collection of poems laid bare … his best and worst; side-by-side. The full journey with all its trammelling is what makes a full-reading of Shakespeare’s sonnets a rewarding exercise. The intrepid determination and commitment to his cause … for love sake; forsaken love.