Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

                  Sonnet 12

Fifteen years ago or so, unboundried
with Shakespeare's plays, they were
another arm, foot, or heart of my own.
I died with true Desdemona pleading,
flowered myself like Ophelia, floating
and muddied in her river grave, hated
Claudio and loved Benedict as Beatrice.
Bottom's mule mouth I entranced kissed.
I subjoined for days betwixt thoughts -
theirs, mine, and Modern and Elizabethan
time.  Now, studying Twelfth Night or
Othello's decent into I know not what,
I awake unencumbered, expanded,
hearing the sunrise and sunset of rhyme.


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