WILLIAM AT HOME
William Shakespeare lives at our house,
Lounging on the sofa,
Perched on a corner of an old brown chair.
He lives here and he resides outside
In the old part of town.
Speaking whenever he fancies,
His ‘thee’s’ and ‘thou’s’ as familiar to me
As the words I heard as a child.
For right from childhood, I understood
That deep, warm speech.
Wrapped it round me like a coat.
We all loved him for it.
This William who is so much a part of us,
It sometimes seems he breathes for us
And keeps us alive
In the pages of a book.
©2019 Gwen Grant
Poems by Gwen Grant 