The trumpet of my thoughts

From Sonnets From Later Life 1981 – 1993. 16 January 1992

Sonnet for Self–Pity

by Kenneth Boulding 

I have built up great castles in the sand,

That wind and waves have swiftly leveled low,

And in the bustling crowd I loudly blow

The trumpet of my thoughts, without a hand

To clap, or ear to hear in all the land.

My words and writings like a river flow

That disappears into the sand below,

A great supply for which there’s no demand.

Ah well! Perhaps I am before my time,

And after I am safely gone from earth

Some prying scholar will expose the worth

Of truths that were not noticed in my prime,

But yet, whate’er the future thinks I’ve done,

Blowing my trumpet has been lots of fun!