William Sticka Member Since July 2008 Artist Statement I such a daring bud on a sycamore tree,
Should stay sheathed for seasons breach will not find the morrow,
To early is it yet for spring and the Nightingales song of sorrow,
Yet risk is thine own, and thy peril hold I bare,
For long hath I with sight wish to plea,
The Moonrise with ill pale grief,
And the stars such twinkle of night sky,
Will I make accord for what I wish to see?
If just a peek does not suit thy whim,
Will I cast off cover and bath in pale grief’s dim?
If I may I will hath just a peep,
If I must a full warn glance,
And if these hath not satisfy; I will cast off sheath,
If the morrow shall bring deaths frost,…….. I shall bequeath.