How poorly does the narrow sonnet form
Encompass such a grand and generous man!
His talent as an etcher, way beyond the norm;
To grow as artist and advocate for artists, his plan.

His one abiding love, obsession, goal,
To capture in prints the Wonder and the Awe,
The Beauty, the Majesty, that stirred his soul,
Inspired by each Cathedral that he saw.

His spirit soared to Gothic heights by skill
With copper plates and grounds, and countless hours
With needles, acids, inks, and rags, until
He proved, by press and paper, all his powers.

Sadly, -- he wrote he rarely if ever achieved his aim.
Yet his breathtaking labors-of-love dispute his claim.

Copyright (2006) by Arnold Cantor.
All rights reserved.

[Written February 1, 2003.]