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Shakespeare's Birthday

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The Sweater, by Nina Moiseiwitsch

Winner, Grades 7 - 9

The sweater only meant to keep me warm
On chilly April days when words became
Ice crystals shining through the thin air torn
By whipping wind; despite your obvious claim,
I rightly took it to mean more when you
With eager hands told me it was my own.
Desire placed seeds of hope it might be true
A sweater could keep you here as your roam
Where I may always feel your memory.
So even when you’re far away up North
Where winds howl loud, I’ll know in every
day I’ve got a piece of you left henceforth
With me to warm my back- and soul- in cold
So blossoms grow anew there and unfold

Shakespeare. Shakespeare's sonnets. London, 1899

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