[NicknamedBob]

"I always look like that when I wake up, too - gosh, I thought everybody did."

They do! If they are married to a poet.

To Day

Darkness, made the more profound,
By silence, whose husbanded sound,
Has stretched the firmament of stilled air,
Until it almost seems about to tear...

Then worn and tattered threadbare night,
Whose shivering stars have tithed their meager light,
Surrenders to a youthful sun to rouse up all the dew,
As elder brethren go to sleep, all blanketed in blue.

The steaming rocks and hillside pearls are rising,
On slanting golden treads, while songbirds in surprising,
Cheerfulness, unclench their frozen toes,
Before the sunny fireplace that rose.

And I my mind and plans for day compose,
When to my sight an amber-petalled rose,
Has caused all time to stand still in its place,
Until I have completed worship of your face.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . October 8, 2005

[Billie]

They do! If they are married to a poet.

And I my mind and plans for day compose,
When to my sight an amber-petalled rose,
Has caused all time to stand still in its place,
Until I have completed worship of your face.

Oh, my! And you wrote this Saturday - it sure fits!