Of Byron, Keats and Shelley, a Few Words

From my Blog: Of Byron, Keats And Shelley, A Few Words (1.) Of Byron And A Visit I Once Had Alas! Youth and its joy away has flown I wake at the break of day with a groan the smooth mirror no lies dares to tell truth seen by these eyes rings loud sorrow's bell vanity's praise to break illusion's spell embedding with red-hot fires of hell life gifted then sets black to steal away from morn's breath, dawning beauty each new day. What would Byron think, sit to write of this would he ink. 'tis not a true poet's kiss" or with flowing quill cast a prudent doubt and see it as dishwater to toss out with utter contempt, write a ballad true of his hate of modern poetry too how love and life are joy and so much more with wisdom our souls, sweeter verse implore? Once his ghost came to my writing station grand it was, birthing sweet jubilation begged I for its golden verse to give pleading to sift my verses through its sieve Aghast the ghost eyed me with deep contempt asking why should my poor state it exempt I was then rebuked with the harshest scorn noting I had never its sad death mourn! Alas! Youth and its joy away has flown I wake at the break of day with a groan the smooth mirror no lies dares to tell truth seen by these eyes rings loud sorrow's bell vanity's praise to break illusion's spell embedding with red-hot fires of hell life gifted then sets black to steal away from morn's breath, dawning beauty each new day. (2.) Of Keats And A Vivid Dream I Once Had I unmask this monster invading me the horrific horrors sent, ten times three that vanishes the sweet breath of her kiss pains, denying even love's greatest bliss with its eyeless guile and quick blackened bite conquering sun's glow, gifting dread of night closing the chasm between dear life and death stealing away my last gasping of breath. I gaze at its immense power and girth and how it roams so freely about earth with its dagger claws and sharp fangs to match and what ease it had this sad soul to catch now it sought to toss me like a small boy as a child does its newest little toy and I helpless to its dark-might withstand while hitting with my hard clenching left hand! O to dream this dark nightmare ever ends with hope, cherish my family and friends yet in this gloom darkness tightens its grip farther into the black-pit this soul slips begging light's glow, I pray for a reprieve from wicked beast sent to slay and deceive my last hope, her true love will see me through and the thought of good fortune I am due. I unmask this monster invading me the horrific horrors sent, ten times three by light's divine glow cast from far above her smiling face beaming down its deep love! (3.) Of Shelley And Bright Light Once Set Aglow Mankind, immortality as its goal yet sadly blind to that much-needed light of weakening flesh, intemperate soul bold feastings of sinful darkened delights as a flood crushes in its raging wake and oft buries deeply it's new-drowned dead man moralizes how to everything take claiming no wrongs in their soft-laden-heads! Of life, its tribulations, and its pains and the stealing of whatever one may bad means nothing if great enough the gains of wealth and pleasure, he takes anyway for what is a man but creature low born made of earth and both feet of oozing mud from God's light far as a heart can be torn and with deep blackened venom in his blood! Alas! Dare man pleads for mercy divine while seeking happiness and golden gifts as it stomps virgin grapes ripe on the vine always crying this and that shall be mine! Robert J. Lindley, 10-24-2020 Rhyme, ( What An Eager Quill And A Fine Muse Once Gifted ) Three poems in tribute to three golden poets of old... 1. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/lord-byron 2. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-keats 3. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/percy-bysshe-shelley