Sonnet # 9

Can I conpare with you, The Mighty One?
No! Not even in dreams I have that luck!
I am a spark; you are no doubt the sun;
I have to say when sadly roses I pluck.
And in my mind I surely search with care
And find these words ashamed for lack of more:
Who made your heart, your soul, your mind, and where?
I say it loud until my throat is sore.
I read, and read; yes, read for many years
Thought I had seen it all to my eyes` core.
Then I discovered you and said with tears,
"Forgive my talents poor, Immortal Door!
Here Shakespeare comes, and Dante and Milton cry.
Some tears from William Blake; He`s not that high.

From: 
Luis A. Estable




ABOUT THE POET ~
I live in Spokane, WA. At present I am trying t get a degree from SFCC., I have been a poet for more than twenty years, and I have been published in Magazines and books of poems. Currently I have a book of poems out; the poems are sonnets, and the title of his book is, "One Hundred Sonnets, Book Three" and you can get it by going to Barnes and Noble or to Amazon.com and typing in my name or the name of the book, and you will see., Keep on writing poetry and remember that not everyone wants to be a poet or can be one. Take care of you gift., Thanks!, Luis Estable


Last updated October 11, 2014