Happy February!
January has been a busy month for me and February kicked off in a fairly crappy way. Since it’s the first of the month though, it’s time for some poetry and since February is the month of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share with you one of my all time favorite love poems.
This has always been and always will be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read!
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine posted an article on her Facebook that sounded interesting so I clicked on over and found this site:
Thought Catalog
It was this article and I remember loving it.it was but I remember loving it.
Love someone like you’re thirty. Not like you’re running out of time, not like your options are drying up. Love him because despite failure and disappointment and fear, you can’t help yourself. Love him in spite of your past; believe in your potential when your better judgment tells you not to.
And I spent the next hour browsing through all of the articles on the site, bookmarking some great ones. Since then, I’ve subscrived to their feed and love reading most of their content. Granted some of the articles can be a bit superflous and I can tell their written by younger people in a different time of their lives. Some are even a bit angsty.
But some are great. I have a boatload of starred articles sitting in Google Reader and I figured that instead of inundating people on Facebook or clogging up my Stumbleupon timeline, I’d do a listing here of the ones I’ve loved so far.
If you have some time, go on over and check them out. It is a great site to add to your feed readers if you’re looking for something different than personal blogs, gossip sites or Damn You Auto Correct!
Am getting a late start this month, sorry y’all!
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.
[featured image via]
November comes,
and November goes,
With the last red berries,
and the first white snows.
With night coming early
and dawn coming late.
And ice in the bucket
and frost by the gate.
The fires burn
and the kettles sing,
and Earth sinks to rest
until next Spring.
[featured image via]