i will go there, to millay

sometime after a.r. shapiro

pardon me, dear friend, for this word i've to say
about a wondrous place where i've just been.
an estate, where art folks escape their malaise—

a spring for form, an altar for grace—they assay
the hallow place that once inspired a queen.
these art folks go there for dear-somethings to say.

they make beauty with paint, prose and poetry—
genres d'art more saintly than our heroine—
i think you should go there, to mill away.

yes go where artists, unbound by time, pray
at happy hours for a powerful reign,
and you will find ample words in your play.

my friend, i believe you are in a like way,
and flourish best when you let beauty govern.
that is why i bid you, go there to Millay's.

it's clear—while time constrains we all are gay
for cures to our pains. oh! this place i've just been
dear friend—trust, the only words you should say
then are plain: "i will go there, to millay."