Sonnet XV
When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth naught by shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and check’d even by the selfsame sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory:
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night
And, all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.
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(photo by scottsnyde at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mioWF5I/The+girls )
The Bard on the Hill 
Have yet to find a single line old Bill has writ I find unfit.
True. I sometimes look at my poems as a whole and I see some in the upper group I label as ones that I think (no one else may ever agree) are capable of enduring. Then, I skip past the middle ones and think of the bottom group that aren’t really good poetry and lament, at times, that they even see the light of day. But those are usually my fun poems and I’ve got this blog that I want to keep posting on. So, they escape the trash bin and have their fifteen seconds of blame. If I only let the 1’s be seen, some might think I was on the edge of being a poet. 🙂 But when the whole is looked at with the bottom ones, I would be tossed along with them. 🙂 I’ll settle for having fun while I write what I think are a few good poems.