Sonnet 50

oh – my – goodness. the big fifty. here’s MeLaina and Special Guest Thomas Jefferson to ring in the round number:

ok – hold up. first, how beautiful is MeLaina’s reading? so beautiful. secondly – how sly and rapt is TJ listening to her? about as rapt as all of us are, right? MeLaina, a poet, a wine connoisseur, and all-around mind-blowing lady sends this in from the williamsburg in virginia — and aren’t we glad for it!

thank you, MeLaina — you’ve truly gifted us today.

happy fifty, happy wednesday — see all later

Sonnet 50
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say
‘Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!’
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide;
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
For that same groan doth put this in my mind;
My grief lies onward and my joy behind.

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “Sonnet 50

  1. Norah

    These are getting more and more beautiful to look at too… love how the sculpture and daytime settings are working with the words. Could this be …art?
    Hellz ya!

  2. Carmen

    How YOU doin’?

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