William Davenant. Shakespeare Was More Than Godfather To Me

[BobBradshaw]

v2:
William Davenant.  Shakespeare Was More Than Godfather To Me


Oft Shakespeare dropped
by the Crown Tavern at Oxon
on his way to Stratford.

He loved to jest with Mother,  
who, when around musicians and players,
was as lively as any minuet.

I take pleasure in the rumor
that Will fathered me
a bastard son.

God’s wounds,
my disfigured pox of a nose...
’tis a subject of ridicule

yet has naught to do
with who fathered me.
Still, judge for thyself.

My high forehead,
the hair receding
faster than a play’s life.

And do I not write
with the spirit
of Shakespeare himself?

My title of Poet Laureate…
Is not my heritage as obvious
as “a dyer’s hand”?

Oft I listened as a boy
to Will, in his cups,
winking at Mother

as he raised toasts to Papa,
jesting surely
he had bribed God…

 to have a wife
like a wind tossed blossom
 opening only for him... 

 And eight children!
 Obviously he hadn’t wasted
 his nights drinking!

 Rheumy eyed,
 Will would lift me onto his knee,
 the scent of ale

 thick as his voice.  
 Sighing, he would muss my hair,
 ruefully boasting

 that I was as handsome
 as his boy Hamnet
 once was.


v1:
William Davenant.  Shakespeare Was More Than Godfather To Me


Oft he dropped by Oxon
enjoying time with my parents
on his way to Stratford.  

He loved to jest with Mother,  
who around musicians and players
was as lively as any minuet.

I take pride in being rumored
Will’s illegitimate son!

God’s wounds,
my disfigured pox of a nose...
’tis a subject of ridicule

yet has naught to do
with who fathered me.
Still, judge for thyself.

My high forehead,
the hair receding
faster than a play’s life.

And do I not write
with the spirit
of Shakespeare himself?

My title of Poet Laureate…
Is not my heritage as obvious
as “a dyer’s hand”?

Oft I listened as a boy
to Will, in his cups,
winking at Mother

as he raised toasts to Papa,
jesting surely
he had bribed God…

 to have a wife
like a wind tossed blossom
 opening only for him! 

 And eight children!
 Obviously he hadn’t wasted
 his nights drinking!

 Rheumy eyed,
 Will would lift me onto his knee,
 the scent of ale

 thick as his voice.  
 Sighing, he would muss my hair,
 ruefully boasting

 that I was as handsome
 as his boy Hamnet
 once was.

[FranktheFrank]

It may benefit the reader to make mention of the Crown Tavern in Oxon.
The first line being confusing. Use the name of his parents for clarity sake.

Oft Shakespeare dropped
by the Crown Tavern at Oxon
enjoying time with my parents
Jane and John Davenport
on his way to Stratford-upon-Avonn.

He loved to jest with Mother,
who, when around musicians and players,
was as lively as any minuet.

I like the way you use archaic words, Bob, it makes the poem more relevant to that age.

I take pride in being rumored
Will’s illegitimate son!

Would bastard son, be too shocking to American tastes
it is a more authentic word for that time.

Is pride too strong a word. Would pleasure or pleased be better.

Maybe:
I take pleasure in the rumour
that Will fathered me
a bastard son.

the scent of ale

thick as his voice.

This doesn't sit quiet right for me, Bob.

Maybe:

the smell of ale

strong as his voice.

I tend to use ellipses this way, Bob:

Thoreau argues that by simplifying one’s life, “the laws of the universe will appear less complex . . .”

a space after the last letter and space after every dot except the last.

Also overuse of the exclamation mark.

A remarkedly well-researched and accurate poem on the life of the supposed son of the great bard of England.

[BobBradshaw]

I like some of your suggestions….let me think about a revision

[BobBradshaw]

Revised...thanks, Ieuan. Much appreciated....

[FranktheFrank]

Much better Bob, if you don't mind me saying.

I still feel beer is more earthy than anything with a scent. smell is ore earthy maybe.
Pub in the KK have an earthy smell, and drinkers of beers, up to 20 pints in a night, smell earthy
a not unpleasant smell. But it is your poem and I bow to you way.

[BobBradshaw]

It is better, thanks to your help. I can't think you enough....have a good New Year's Eve!

[FranktheFrank]

How about this for a Title, Bob.

I Don't Disown Being Called Will's Bastard Son

I Don't Bridle at the Moniker Will's Bastard

It's an Honour being Called Will's Bastard Son