He was born in the year nineteen sixty nine.
His place of origin, not completely sure.
But he is presently residing in Canada.
In the wrong era, that he must endure.

In the English days of yesteryear,
He would have been deemed so great.
I would love to travel back with him,
For I, also, was born too late.

I may have sat cross-legged,
On a sloping grassy hill,
And listened so intently,
To his amazing skill.

Or perhaps he would be reading,
In a theatre that's oh so grand.
And by carriage they would travel,
To hear the best poet in the land.

But would we know each other,
The way that we now do.
Or would I be just another common,
Hoping for a glance from you.

Would I stand afar so you couldn't see,
The longing in my eyes.
To know you and to have you know me,
My passion in disguise.

There is one thing that's certain,
Whether circa 1700 or 2010.
You are my very special poet,
If breathing now or living then.