...your breakfast
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCCXXXIX)
Tis Monday. If November's trees regale
By half and seem late stripped of aught fr'intents,
Bare limbs and naked silhouettes what fence
The searching glance where fields own that detail
Of tan in lieu of green, as yellow'd hail
On ev'ry side, though reds still flutter thence
Twixt all as if to add a note for sense,
I am too shot, nor have a chance t'avail.
That huge barn 'cross the fields, which stands as twere
Likeas some dream cast up to solace who
Could spare a moment just to dream in tour,
Is faded, yet half cozened by a crew
Of huge trees, til I maunt but look, bestir
Fantastic dreams thereby, and LORD, wait You.
03Nov25a
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
...your breakfast
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCCXXXIX)
Tis Monday. If November's trees regale
By half and seem late stripped of aught fr'intents,
Bare limbs and naked silhouettes what fence
The searching glance where fields own that detail
Of tan in lieu of green, as yellow'd hail
On ev'ry side, though reds still flutter thence
Twixt all as if to add a note for sense,
I am too shot, nor have a chance t'avail.
That huge barn 'cross the fields, which stands as twere
Likeas some dream cast up to solace who
Could spare a moment just to dream in tour,
Is faded, yet half cozened by a crew
Of huge trees, til I maunt but look, bestir
Fantastic dreams thereby, and LORD, wait You.
03Nov25a
You were expected to eat on the run, and I like to believe I was taught to contrarily eat thoughtfully, was it? When, if you must work, work, work?
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