More Shakespeare's Sonnets
By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 30: The Poet
(Inspiration 19)

Thou art the sun within these humble lines
Of yellowed parchment, scrawled with notes of ink
That try in vain to build a shrine of shrines
To consecrate thy worth without a kink.
Thy days are young, the sun still shining bright,
Reflecting off thine eyes an awesome dawn
That rivals daybreak, rising to the height
Of gods, exceeding them in glories drawn.
Let others draw such glories hewn in stone,
However grand they be, as they are wont to gloat,
But rhyme outlasts them all, thy treasure sown
In living mouths reciting what I wrote.
       Oblations made of words can never die,
       So long as people breathe and laugh and sigh.

(To be continued...)

A/N: Here's the 12th installment... I know... At this point, it's starting to become kind of like the Twilight Zone... But there are two more to this... Enjoy!