Twelfth NightA Poem by Duncan BrownTwelfth Night is just the
right night For a Feste fool of such
clever light To leave his mark upon the
page His food of love is just the
stuff For him to work his magical
play In so many a comical tragic
way Cross gartered on the worlds
stage
Each fool is just the clown
we are And some of those can beguile
us As we traverse our daily
bread To keep ourselves so humbly
fed And lay our head upon a weary
bed Rising to fall that we may
rise again Fulfilling life’s sweet
undulating call
Such fools are we of brilliant
clarity Thus we have some bright
humanity To guide us through in loving
charity The labyrinth of all things
before us Besetting our path with
stumbling folly And not all of which exactly
adore us We triumph still against our
experience
Life’s foolishness is our
heart felt fall Upon the trespass of our
mortal call While each character is at
our command And every soul should be as
we demand In all except our very
blessed selves As authority without
responsibility Can oft times be our secret
world fantasy
Fools like us do come and
mercifully go As part of life’s sweet ebb
and flow There’s so much of it we
never know And a bunch of stuff we
shouldn’t It can sometimes make us
wonder Why a good god on this
foolish earth Doesn’t display her telephone
number. © 2017 Duncan Brown |
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Added on September 24, 2017 Last Updated on September 24, 2017 Author
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