Poet's Skill

Poet's Skill

Were you to be new made when you get old.
On the fair subject, blessing every book.
Can I change your thought, that I may change my mind.
Or whether shall I say, to turn a page to change the look.

A liquid prisoner, imprisoned behind walls of glass.
And take you my offering, it is poor but free.
The glass will show how  beauty wears.
To set a form upon desired change

Through the poet you see his skill.
Nor praise deep vermilion in the rose.
Which eyes not yet created shall read.
To be held so proper, prim and prose.

By seeing farther than your eyes have been shown.
To set a play on papered stage.
The sacrifice of worded thought.
A simple rhyme upon the page.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"A liquid prisoner, imprisoned in walls of glass.
And take you my offering, poor but free.
Your glass will show you how your beauties wear.
To set a form upon desired change. "

Now you prove with this wonderful write your skills( a poet indeed) , your understanding of it all, your future projections too. Excellent...:).............

[Raymond Federle]

Thank you my friend. :)

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...Any time...:)...................

[Aethereal]

Very ecliptic prose here, but it makes sense to me. I see a hint of Shakespeare in your last verse. Perhaps: “All the world’s a stage,” and all the players rhymes upon a page?

[Raymond Federle]

I admit ...I do borrow a lot from Mr.S but I'd hope he'd take that as a compliment. :)

[Aethereal]

Shakespeare would. Every individual is a unique poem in the making, and each page is a stage in each person's life, a butterfly's life as well. It’s odd how page rhymes with stage. Could they have formed from the same English root word?