December 9, 2012 by phicks2012
Calliope is the Muse of Epic Poetry. Erato is the Muse of Love Poetry. Polyhymnia was the muse of sacred poetry. There is no acknowledged Muse of Lyric Poetry, is there? Still, she’s out there lurking, so I’m going to call her Lyrica — NOT to be confused with the drug currently being prescribed for Fibromyalgia and listing side-effects that appear, at least to the casual observer, worse than the condition the drug is supposed to treat.
So the Muse Lyrica has been troubling me constantly lately, but the sonnet below is not a new one. It was written in 2001. I’ll get around to the newer works again, but in the meanwhile, I hope you’ll enjoy a plunge into artistic antiquity!!
Sonnet No. 13
To those of open heart show open hand,
Concealing not the blade beneath the smile,
And spirits generous should be repaid
With generosity, and not with guile.
To those who love and nothing more demand
Give love in turn and never truth defile,
For honor false is soon enough betrayed
And honor true shall prove most versatile.
To those of gentle nature give in turn
Gentility, and kindness as reward,
Hold not a torch beneath the helping hand
Nor from it seize what it can ill afford.
To those who lend, repay and honor earn;
To those of honesty the truth accord;
To those who shelter and who understand
Give succor to each Lady and each Lord.
For as you render you shall be defined,
And shall receive of others then in kind.
May 16th, 2001