Sunday, January 18, 2015

Out of Step.

A Midnight Modern Conversation by William Hogarth, Etching - 1732-1733

I spent nearly three hours composing a blog post this evening, which you'll get to see tomorrow. Hopefully, it'll bring back some memories for my readers. No teasers, though. I put a lot of work into writing it!

That being said, Sunday is usually quiet for me. Being that I work from home and have no children, Sunday night isn't anything monumental. I don't dread having to be back at work on Monday morning. Nor do I have to concern myself with getting kids ready for the new school week. I suppose you could say that puts me out of step with most of America. Oh well.. Not much I can do about that, now is it?

I thought I'd share a poem with you this evening from the celebrated Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, entitled "Was There a Time".

Was there a time when dancers with their fiddles
In children's circuses could stay their troubles?
There was a time they could cry over books,
But time has set its maggot on their track.
Under the arc of the sky they are unsafe.
What's never known is safest in this life.
Under the skysigns they who have no arms
Have cleanest hands, and, as the heartless ghost
Alone's unhurt, so the blind man sees best.

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