How can I compare thee

I, a poet of simple skill and grace

Compare you Lady dear.

Your words are golden

And I would wager a fair sum that your works would not stand out

Amongst the works of Byron, Shakespeare, Tennyson and Poe.

For you write as if your heart is not from the hear, and now

But from the romantic age, when these poets of well renown

Where all alive ,and well

But do not believe that I praise you so

Because I wish for praise in return

For I can see that you are a gracious being as well.

You help others, like myself, who do not hold a candle to your flame

You share your flame, your passionate flame, your flame of artistic strength

For you are humble, this my heart tells me so.

I see you as a lady, a lady of poets

One, who if a crown was offered

Should be crowned queen of the literary youth.

For you are indeed an artist of noble

No, no, royal

Skill, grace, emotion, and thought.

You are, in my mind

With out a doubt

A queen among poets.

And I, your humble admirer

Would, with pleasure

Serve you, protect you, and comfort you

If we were together, in any other time, or place- John Barley