thy nimble hands
do run through the sands
of time.
I know not what mind conceived you
were there more than one
or one or more at a time.
I know not how long it took
to write you down
a few years or may be just one.
The lives of all that you dealt with
are indebted to you
the price he paid who wrote you
is all but plain.
Oh Mighty epic
will you come down to my height
Oh Mighty Epic
bend down a slight.
I do not understand why
it should take
a few thousand pages
for art to make.
Floral language
in depth prognosis
of every man
who features in it
or has some hand.
Volume 1 for virtues
and volume two for pain
Volume three has beauty
volume 7 brains.
Oh Mighty Epic
would you not take
me with you
Oh Mighty Epic
where art thou
I am not through.
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