[Because by now I do not know.]
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCCLVIII)
The snow is melted, and the lawns from hence
Are weary ghosts of Summer, hill nor vale
But wearing Winter's faded mien. T'avail
Ourselves of dreams, we deck the keen suspense
With freighted plans and trimmings for pretense
T'admire, with red a focal point to scale,
Because the vines which weave chains 'long the trail
Are scarlet, likeas blood dripped through for whence.
Resort to my bed and the kittens fer
All that are here before me. As the two
Observe, plunk down to scribble. Both bestir
To play, then Peter leaves, and Tigger'd do
The time good, cleaning herself. What, as twere
Is left? Work piles up. LORD, how we wait You.
12Nov25b
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC
[Because by now I do not know.]
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCCLVIII)
The snow is melted, and the lawns from hence
Are weary ghosts of Summer, hill nor vale
But wearing Winter's faded mien. T'avail
Ourselves of dreams, we deck the keen suspense
With freighted plans and trimmings for pretense
T'admire, with red a focal point to scale,
Because the vines which weave chains 'long the trail
Are scarlet, likeas blood dripped through for whence.
Resort to my bed and the kittens fer
All that are here before me. As the two
Observe, plunk down to scribble. Both bestir
To play, then Peter leaves, and Tigger'd do
The time good, cleaning herself. What, as twere
Is left? Work piles up. LORD, how we wait You.
12Nov25b
Diary pages, entries in sonnet stanzas because that's the only way she could manage to keep a diary.
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