NaPoWriMo #23: Sonnet from Stratford

It seems the end is in sight for this year's NaPoWriMo, but there's still a fair way to go. I've just returned from Stratford-upon-Avon where I visited William Shakespeare's birthplace and his new place. Seeing as today is his 401st birthday, here's a sonnet about how I felt while wandering around his garden.

Sonnet from Stratford

I find myself in a poet's garden,
a vibrant and complex oasis
where every flower is as ardent
as the meanings they gifted to this
poet of poets who heard the dawn lark
and decided that one could not face it,
the morning arrived to cast out the dark,
the grasp of the mortal coils which trace it,
a strange world where all who seek to explore
and profit from its bounty, the question
for the poet sat outside his back door
to answer in words with no digression.
  Now I hear those words as spoken today
  and seek for answers lest they go astray.