Sonnet 12: Eternal life

 Oft on mortality I contemplate:

as no elixir lasts your life or fame.

In face of fickle herald of the Fate,

I fear it may efface my love one’s name.

Had I the gift of the Stratfordian bard,

You’d live till last eye’s sight and last man’s breath.

Fear not Time’s brush might o’er your beauty fard,

My verse shall grant you power defying death.

Yet I possess no more than tenth his wit

which your longevity could not suffice.

Dull it may seem, I give you what I’ve writ:

You’ll have a broader life with my device.

So long I live, so long your name is sung.

You’ll live from ear to ear, from tongue to tongue.

2015/2/14