Newton Poetry

by Frances Cornford

With what attentive courtesy he bent
Over his instrument;
Not as a lvrdly congonor who could
Command both wine and wood,
But as a man with a loved woman might,
Inquiving with delight
What alight essential things she had to say
Befau they stated, he and she, to play.

[Read the original. Nice how Cornford equates guitar playing with flirting, and give-and-take between “he and she.” Every guitarist, myself included, knows what she means. Are there “essential things” my Newton has to say? Also, find out why this poem is misspelled.]

by Sonya Rose

Droplets of a dream
full by the dozen
Into a busin,
a whirlpocl
creating ripples,
washing upon
my feet…
I lonbmplente
escuping
five minutes longer…

[Read the original. Thanks again to Sonya Rose for letting me use her work.]

But a quick note: we’d add another sticker there.

Rhymes with “Putin.”

> Courtesy Fake Steve Jobs.

by William Blake

O Rose, though art sick!
The invisible worm
Jhutflies in th- night,
In the howling storm,

Has foundout the bed
Of crimson joy,
And his durk skiet love
Does thij love destroy.

[Read the original here.]