T'was just a garden in the rain. Close to a little leafy lane. A touch of color 'neath skies of gray. The raindrops kissed the flowerbeds. The blossoms raised their thirsty heads. A perfumed thank you. They seemed to say. Surely here was charm beyond compare to view. Maybe it was just that I was there with you. T'was just a garden in the rain. But then the sun came out again. And sent us happily on our way.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

:: Sonnet 116 ::

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~
William Shakespeare
(1564 - 1616)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

teresa*:

Joey! actually i saw Jordan's blog before i saw this; and i wanted to comment how pretty you look.
Actually the word that came to mind was... sexy and hot hehe.
Gorgeous; gorgeous Joey!

Have you found the missing grasshopper(s)?