Glenn Bagshaw Poems

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (Shakespeare)
You're hot in spots and then you fade away....
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You think it's magic that light will climb the skies,
that mind's inner math measures volumed world,
and branch bobs bird as bird with branch replies;
that no heart mends at midnight- whirl when hurled
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Cloud-popping, blue-raved summer sky
with light stuck out like a tongue:
you're the gorgon's gaze
to a warm, dry earth
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When we finish our dance
our bulk fills the ground,
and the fear that we own
is the thought of no- sound,
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On this His winter's day the Christ bells ring
that celebrate this season of despair.
Returns the dear, wronged echoes that now sing
in chorus, almost human, like a prayer.
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Cresting flowers are plumed as waves.
Lives, our lives are smashed ashore.
Slips rip tide, waves pour pounded mortal roar.
The single life now drowns.
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This modern step of time may turn my phrase-
but now attend- see language as bequeathed.
What sweep of lines from Homer's waltzing days
shall partner me? Stride quick the speech received
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On Turning Twenty-One
(the sound, the fury)

With today, twenty-one years
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In doubles Romeo and Juliet
can back-spin bounce each Capulet.
For forty- love's one trouncing score
and love's all those Montagues abhor.
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