Vows Made in Wine

Of all the poems I have ever written
But few have been transparent works of art;
I guess I wrote of fields passing through Britain,
And Britain's fields indeed gave that a start.
But most of what I write is pure invention
Inspired by, but yet no slave to truth;
Poetical-theatrical convention
Is strongest in producing borrowed youth.
To play with words and make a self anew
Is pleasure in and of itself enough
To take a half-truth and present it true
Or even something made of plastic stuff.
I mold the words and figures in my fingers
To shape away the truth - and yet it lingers.