dare I declare this morning's love turned evening deep

mousapelli got me a Stuffy Puppy V-Gift! THANK YOU MOUSI! ♥♥♥♥

Drizzly rainy day. Going to bake bread in a bit, I think, and try to compose a poem about why I can’t stand Dr. Seuss.

Let's do this post old-school, where a bunch of stuff happens and I do a diary-style entry!

( well we went down the road, got soaked in moonlight )

Apparently April is Poetry Month? So I guess I’d better keep posting poems, then. Here, have a dark rainy day poem I’m thinking of putting in my anthology project:

Like wolf--and black bull or goblin hound,
Or come in guise of spirit
With wings and long wet waving hair
And at the fire its locks will dry,
Which will be a certain sign
That one beneath the roof must die
Before the year’s decline
Forget not now what I have said,
Sit there till we return.
The hearth is hot—watch well the bread
Lest haply it may burn.

(by Charlotte Brontë, found in Victorian Women Poets, ed. Angela Leighton & Margaret Reynolds. Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 1995. p. 161)

I’d better go get started on that bread, then. And keep a close eye on it.

dare I declare this morning's love turned evening deep

mousapelli got me a Stuffy Puppy V-Gift! THANK YOU MOUSI! ♥♥♥♥

Drizzly rainy day. Going to bake bread in a bit, I think, and try to compose a poem about why I can’t stand Dr. Seuss.

Let's do this post old-school, where a bunch of stuff happens and I do a diary-style entry!

( well we went down the road, got soaked in moonlight )

Apparently April is Poetry Month? So I guess I’d better keep posting poems, then. Here, have a dark rainy day poem I’m thinking of putting in my anthology project:

Like wolf--and black bull or goblin hound,
Or come in guise of spirit
With wings and long wet waving hair
And at the fire its locks will dry,
Which will be a certain sign
That one beneath the roof must die
Before the year’s decline
Forget not now what I have said,
Sit there till we return.
The hearth is hot—watch well the bread
Lest haply it may burn.

(by Charlotte Brontë, found in Victorian Women Poets, ed. Angela Leighton & Margaret Reynolds. Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 1995. p. 161)

I’d better go get started on that bread, then. And keep a close eye on it.