Good monster of the distant shore,
fear not! I am no Prospero.
I only wish to comfort you
in penance for my life’s regrets.

What would you have me do, dear sir,
to ease the ache of misplaced trust,
to salve the wounds of wizardry?

I’ve no resource you may desire,
no wealth or title to extort;
I trade in verse and images,
creating life from broken words.

My hands will craft a dream supreme,
a gift of vision with no end.
I’ll sing to you a lullaby,
caress your brow with feathered quill.

Your tempest is away, good sir.
The time for sleep is now at hand.


*for those who are unfamiliar with the character of Caliban
from Shakespeare’s The Tempest here is a link
to a multi-faceted commentary on his nature and relationship
to the main character of Prospero:

Copyright © 2012 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved


About cjchaffin

Wordsmithing is my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe words and phrases, only to regurgitate them and pray that they are better off than when I first ingested them.
This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Caliban

  1. michael says:

    Great poem. I loved the Tempest, and I love this piece as well.

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