Her pure and eloquent blood
Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought
That one might almost say, her body thought.
--- John Donne
The great metaphysical poet, Mr. Donne, has given me something to think about, something to strive for, something bigger than the quotidian restraints of bills and debt and the humidity of late July. Some find solace in religion, some find solace in drugs, some find solace in work, I find it in language.
Question of the Day - Suggested by Shaker feminista1: *"What is your favorite candy?* (I don't like candy is a perfectly acceptable answer.) Probably red 'licorice.' Twizzlers, ...
4 hours ago