Sunday, April 22, 2012

Oliver Goldsmith How Could You? by Bob Atkinson


Oliver Goldsmith How Could You?
(c)2012 Bob Atkinson

you think so softly of desire
your education's light
not in the top of your class
but more so near its base

you go adventure bound
walking Europe with a flute
your only productive endeavor
play notes for drink and soup

an Englishman from Ireland
not fish nor meat nor fowl
you wander over in your mind
that which stands on firm ground

writing of those real events
which caught your fancy now and then
writing poems and articles with pen
that circled heads and came out again

many deeds you mulled over
so many lovely tales to tell
caught imaginations in your grasp
with things you did so well

lines repeated by others
of that you were the master
simple phrases sticking
in all minds were plastered

sayings, words and quick notes
that which fit the mind
so carefully crafted and sincere
were adopted for all time

stories of villages so very nice
turned to gardens by mad barons
because of sultry avarice
and for the poor uncaring

monuments built in your wake
names of towns, statues to honor you
really had them in your hands
joke's on them, not you

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