Friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,
for mine eyes aren’t enough to behold life’s beauty.
Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind
and sees with a light that in my inner darkness abides.
What light through yonder window breaks?
A golden tone both elegant and soft,
its rich warmth searching for that which lusters.
All that glisters is not gold.
As the trees look in to find their place,
all the world’s a stage
for the doyen of art to show his mastery.
This thing of darkness
hinders our view of what is lovely and
of all that is worthy of mending.
Nothing can come of nothing but
such stuff as dreams are made on.
O, what men dare do!
to leave to rot this chalice of joy.
What’s done is done,
but should not keep one from doing it again
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Pray we, too, will live our scripts with abandon,
our heart’s stage ever breathing the words of the author.
To him and to thine own self be true.
This is my submission for a One Stop Poetry’s Picture Prompt Challenge. The picture, shown above, led me to interact with remnants of Shakespeare. It’s quite a bit more than just a caption!
See other postings to this prompt here.