(Yes Sinatra was a musician Miss Transue, I mention him because afterwards my grandfather ranted about how the music intustry is filled with no-talent harpies who can't even get drunk in the right way like Sinatra. c[:)
‘…And even from the grave, for hundreds of years he’s been inspiring the greats and you could be great too my dear.’ I remember this always as the last line of my grandfathers rant of the truly inspiring literature of Shakespeare giving life to some of the other greatest works in writing (following this rant he taught me a thing or two about music mainly of his love of Frank Sinatra.). It was this that made me feel the deep need to read Mr. Shakespeare’s works…and to ultimately study them. After all, I had to find out how to stand the test of time and funny enough, once I started reading his works....for a few weeks after my mind would start to think in odd manners. I would literally be thinking in Shakepearean with the worlds 'thy' and 'thou' commonly springing into my head and would have to catch myself to I didn't say it to often infront of people. This poem right below this paragraph is a product of this, with some modifications to fit school standards. I wrote it when I was in seventh grade, on the phone with one of my best friends directly after I read by William Shakespeare for the first time and watched the movie (The Christian Bale version of course. (=)
The fruitless moon recives many plights
From thy stars
Shooting across your darkened canvas
But what is night?
But a grieving companion by jealous day?
Who is wracked with many troubles,
Of the moons pale beauty,
Of it's many compainions.
Though of hate,
Love lies behind the brightest.
For when they fall at night,
It is not just of thy spiteful hate,
But of love so great,
One can only fall to the ground and wait,
That thy lover may catch and soften the blow.
But one cannot wait for the moon in the sky.
It itself is waiting for day to come to relieve it of thy sighs.
Unknowing it brought it's lover into a most fatal abyss.