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I Pace The Stage - Sonnet After Spenser.
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Loss I loved him as a son, undaunted
By the taunts and rants of youth rebelling.
Viewing with pride, the proud boy, unbridled,
Tall, handsome, knowing, wrathful and loving.
No boy of mine, but all mine! Challenging,
Meeker souls to compete, live and love life.
All the long years without a plot, acting,
The role cast for us by fate and my wife.
No easy role, no learned lines, that’s life.
And in a flash his curtain fell, No bow.
No encore. No review. Cold endless grief!
The comedy a tragedy. And now?
I pace the stage and await the coming,
Of rising stars, and a happy ending?
