That Artly Loved Life, Much After Death. Poem by Michael Gale

When'st i pass fro' this unspirited plane...
My life before seemed uncolored and plain.
Could have killed many for newspaper headline's fame...
That would not be moral or originally an artistical notoriety's name, to claim.
Poetry and the art world is where i play...
Aft' mine deadly demise, mayhap my work twill be put to a timed and honorabled, appreciated artful display.
Then i would'st not mind in this mortal mind and every man's standard...
For my work to be morally scrutinised, and conversed, and lately, and lastly, by all man, woman, and child-happly scanned and a'gandered.
This makes life lived to it's fullest...
This makes life lived to it's full, flavored boldest.