It’s taken me this many years, in my mature age
To understand, and, more, to enjoy Shakespeare
For in my younger years, I couldn’t, didn’t
I look forward to the delight in store for me
As play by play, I will open the heavy, leather volumes
Of Shakespeare in my home library
I recall, in my youth, my delight
As symphony by symphony, I discovered Beethoven
I recall my sadness, when there were no more symphonies to discover
Symphony by symphony, I had heard them all
Though I can still listen to them time and again
I recall, in early manhood, my delight
As novel by novel, I discovered Hemingway
I recall emulating Hemingway’s characters, Hemingway
As I was young, and searching for an identity
I recall, also in early manhood, my awe
As I viewed paintings in museums
That I had previously seen only as prints in books
And I could, can, view them time and again
So all these years, these good years
Bring me to the doorstep of Shakespeare
And like an eager youth, I anticipate
The delight in store for me
As play by play, I open the heavy, leather volumes
Of Shakespeare in my home library—
A surprising boon bestowed on my advanced years
David Fekete 