Poems from Time Merchant

A Bibliophile's Ballad
I slowly transpose from Flesh and Blood to Page and Pen.   My hands are dog-eared, and linedFrom folding them in anxious knots at your...
Sonnet XVIII: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?
At some point long ago, I promised myself I'd never pen another love poem.  I transposed all my ballads to cynical limericks, All my...