age to come would say
this poet lies; touches ne’er
touched earthly faces
Sorry to say there is a bit of slight of hand here as I looked at my posted posts and thoughts and blogs and haiku and saw that from December 25 to December 28, 2020, I missed 4 days.
In effort to catch up, and fill in blanks, I created 4 haiku from Sonnet 17, my favorite by Big Bill.
Sonnet 17
Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say ‘This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.’
So should my papers, yellowed with their age,
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme.
Haiku 1 thru 4
Who believes my verse
in time to come, if filled with
your most high deserts
heaven knows it is
but as a tomb hides your life
shows not half your parts
could write the beauty
of your eyes, in fresh numbers
number your graces
age to come would say
this poet lies; touches ne’er
touched earthly faces
No Haiku For You 