Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #72
Where dost Thou enlist Thy prophets,
Like jugglers in a sparse country fare
Swirling hued hollow words to please
Bored toddlers evading a mother’s glare!
Dost Thou seek in twilight’s taverns grimy
The droopiest head awash with wine
Mouthing for audience daily prophecy
That in sober ears falls firmly undone!
Dost Thou prowl a council of schemers
Charting dull plots the dumb to dazzle,
Who with sleight of word and phrase
Rob the beggar of every redeeming will!
Oh to the lists of Thy prophets add me not,
Be unto me my Lover, immortal and immaculate.