motives

the bard of Avon's sonnets were his art
the plays he only penned to pay the rent
the shorter works were closer to his heart
to give his inmost passions truest vent
the play's the thing to keep the wolves at bay
but rhyming verse was more what he would choose
for timeless sentiments on bright display
unblemished offerings to please his Muse
a score of generations join to praise
the poetry that he penned on the side
that still has power to move and amaze
a reader 'though the poet's world has died
in fourteen lines, he could evoke a world
and sometimes--one would hope--he got the girl