Sonnett to Modernists
by Mildred Breedlove

I cannot be content with grass and straw
As long as there are flowers for the soul
Though millions show obeisance in their awe
Of him who says that straw will make one whole.
I cannot be content with ugliness
Though ugliness be found on every tongue,
Nor save myself from hunger and distress
If I must eat the straw to be among
Those favored by the critic and his hire.
I must have beauty in the song upon my lyre
Though forced to stand alone and go unheard.

And I will be content to bear the scorn
Till beauty finds a time to be reborn.
Copyright © Mildred Breedlove, all rights reserved