Becky beat me again this week with her poem on My So-Called Life.
The Adventures of Dangerous Meredith
And once again I am going to cheat by posting an Oscar Wilde poem sent to me by Poem Hunter.com.
AS one who poring on a
Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made,
God with slim goddess, goodly man with maid,
And for their beauty's sake is loth to turn
And face the obvious day, must I not yearn
For many a secret moon of indolent bliss,
When in the midmost shrine of Artemis
I see thee standing, antique-limbed, and stern?
And yet--methinks I'd rather see thee play
That serpent of old Nile, whose witchery
Made Emperors drunken,--come, great Egypt, shake
Our stage with all thy mimic pageants! Nay,
I am grown sick of unreal passions, make
The world thine Actium, me thine Antony!
More poems from Oscar Wilde
If you have a poem you would like to share with us please leave a comment below or message me on Facebook with your url. Thank you.