With apolgies to poets everywhere

In Memoriam For My Own Aspirations,
As I Edit My Own Writing

by Tony Noland

I envy not in any muertes
The captive muse of noble rage,
The sonnet born upon the page,
That never knew such summary words:

I envy not the scribe that takes
His vodka with a dash of lime,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
That which a connoisseur never makes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The scribe that never once penned Truth
But deals in faerie, ray-gun and sleuth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, what deletions befall;
I feel it, when I rewrite most;
'Tis better to have written, then tossed,
Than never to have written at all.

With apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson