Prim-piped April dressed in all her trim
Put her vivacious spirit in his poetic parterre
Where wits flower into lovely words
Growing bright, and shining brighter ever
By nature’s light reflected in his twinkling humor
That requires no Agent Text to please Reason.
Brilliant as the star that danced
And sparkled in the Milky Way,
The Wit that Nature crowned
The Bard with a Laurel of Poetry
Adorned him with Great Glory.
P.S.: Today is Shakespeare’s birthday, and I feel somehow responsible for writing about it to commemorate it as a continuing Student of Art and Dabbler of Wordcraft. What I love about the Bard is that he wasn’t classically educated and that he was something of an autodidactic artist whose natural light of wit and way with words made him all the more attractive and approachable. The image of a gigantic literary figure that we usually associate with Will is a Victorian invention of the grandiose grandeur of English literature undefiled. If Geoffrey Chaucer prioritized the English language, Shakespeare popularized it. Hence my eternal Kudo to the Brilliant Bard.
A Cat in the Mirror 
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