Second Tribute to John KeatsA Poem by Gleb ZavlanovAmazing poet...
Fair
Keats, whose tongue is strewn with tenderness Whose
honeyed words all lilt with sacred joy As
Heaven’s bards, whose swift hands gently stress A
chord or note, and passioned grace employ, I
can’t express how much I always wilt With
happiness and awe, whene’er I read Your
poetry, which lulled and always filled My
heart, once shagged with dying, shriveled weed With
summer’s kiss and spring’s compassion, fair And
dreamy essences, pure censer-wrought And
autumn’s clime and ocean, debonair, And
winter’s winds. The fires of my thought Have always fumed as bubbles in the brook Whene’er I traced the pages of your book! © 2014 Gleb ZavlanovReviews
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11 Reviews Added on January 25, 2014 Last Updated on January 25, 2014 AuthorGleb ZavlanovAboutHello there. I'm an aspiring poet. Nothing makes me happier than to bring delight to the hearts of my readers and to bring delight to myself by reading other peoples' work. Poetry is, in my opinion, o.. more..Writing
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