To surmise perchance to see

There are many dusty tomes around
Probably visited by
what used to be the bookworm
But Being afraid to fly

The indian meal moth cometh
Clearly the need to learn
Sick of all that muesli
And filled with such concern

Those lives spent out of digital
Without the electric span
Dealing just with candlelight
And daylight which would pan

Out across the universe
Inventive clearly and
Many a sonnet cleared the page
And never again would land

Up there in the realms
of myriad strangers
Pointers in their own lives
let us say
Really building sacred stairways
Really pushing out the frontiers
Really making for a lovely day

Let me try and chat a while
To a poet Of his day
In A garret flight above a store
With his quill he
Made it pay

From his own imagination
The need for inventiveness
To envisage and to romanticize
And fictionalise no less

And with this great abundance
A spirit and a form
Eclipsed the powers of reason
And of course heartstrings did warm

and sweet melodies were forthcoming
A lineage of star lights here to stay
Inspiration like an enormous thunderbolt
That filled their nights and every single day

And so it always will be
The poets of their time
They knelt in prayer most of them
Or courted their lady divine

with their etiquette and of course no shower
Their perfume to admire
A need for flowery adjectives
With verbs that would catch fire

And so this supposition
This argument to apply
The ecstacy of image
To the wizardry of I