Food for Thought-A Shakespearean Scene III

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A Shakespearean Scene III

The things I see ‘tis not strange for me,
to treasure words which only seem,
to betray the meaning I describe,
whilst I search our diurnal demise,
for a sacred instant to divine,
on this occasion which may occur,
something beyond my quotidian turn,
words to define, without compare,
how can one describe the air;
‘tis only the wind which blows the maiden’s hair,
‘tis never seen, ‘cept round the trees.
Choose, the word lies through this door,
Welcome, my friends to the land of metaphor.

–Richard Bryant