Supper with several poet friends
One evening last week, I invited some of my former poet friends to dinner. I decided to invite only a few of my favorite English poets whom I had met while studying English literature. I wondered if they would still remember me after almost fifty years.
One evening last week, I invited some of my former poet friends to dinner. I decided to invite only a few of my favorite English poets whom I had met while studying English literature. I wondered if they would still remember me after almost fifty years.
Promptly at 7 P.M., John Donne arrived holding John Milton’s hand to guide his footsteps because his eyesight had failed. With a warm handshake, I led them into the living room. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. There stood William Blake, William Wordsworth, Lord Byron, and John Keats. Last to arrive was Gerald Manley Hopkins.
We sat around a large table each sipping his favorite beverage while reminiscing about old times. John Donne asked me if people still read poetry as much a
