The Tempest

You walk laps around the house,

reading The Tempest with

such ease I’d swear you were reciting

modern English.

 

As my eyes grow heavy and the night draws nigh,

Oh, “what dreams may come”

 

Bravo, orator. Bravo.

“All the world’s a stage,” the Bard wrote elsewhere,

and you stand proud at its center.

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