How strange to be on the other end. I didn't write this but I'm going to publish it for a friend who gave it to me:
"Sonnet K
The humming stillness of a sound,
Opulent, crisp reflections of the soul,
A single breath which circles round,
What solemn fate thou hast to make things whole?
What thoughts linger in thee is always quite a curiosity.
The world or the time, me think'st it all quite divine.
A sense of wonder and delight, inciting insightful reciprocity.
Thine brilliance knows only to shine.
Shakespeare, Dante, Emerson, Faulkner,
Not one may hold a light to thine unwritten poetry.
Rhythm in all words made, thou mak'st the perfect rhymer,
There can be no imitation of thee in all forms of mimicry.
For what sacred art there may be,
It is all retained in thee."
Thank you for making my day, seriously.
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