Wow, over two months and nary a post. I'd give you the full boring rundown of what I've been doing while NOT blogging, but to share my reasons would be to make excuses out of them. I will say I've been in a creative drought of cracked-earth proportions. Last night, however, I was dancing in my living room and I don't know if it was the caffeine, the Christmas spirit, or both, but I heard the hushed roar of a flash flood of inspiration approaching. I don't want to get ahead of myself though so I think I will post someone else's thoughts before proclaiming to have any more of my own. At least the subject is topical.
Leisure
By W.H. Davies
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait til her mouth can
Enrich that smiler her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have to time to stand and stare.
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