Jul
27
Up with the Larks
Sometimes I am amazed at how big he has gotten in just one year, other times I am overwhelmed by how small he still is. Early morning. Still dark, don’t wake up, baby. He cuddles up, nursing. Tiny soft hand touching my face. Sweet joy.
Sonnet 29:
When in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes … Happily I think on thee and then my state Like to lark at break of day arising From troubled earth sings hymns at heaven’s gate. Such sweet joy thy remembered love doth bring, I would scorn to change my state with kings.
