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Monday, March 31, 2008

Sonnet XCI

The childish joy of late invading me
makes all the tears of past and future worth
the pains endured and perils closely seen.
What joy to be a flask of cheerful mirth!

How I remember darkness ailing me,
impeding my potential, lingering.
How hindering, how frightening it seemed.
And then, the disappearance of dark things.

I can’t describe the way to overcome
the shrouds of sadness that may well annoy.
All I advise is wait and then wait some
for more inspiring, happy, blissful joy.

I wholly advocate the gifts of life,
for now that greater times have come, I live!

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A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!