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 We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
| "What light through yonder trees doth break?" "'Tis sunset for the night is young." "How much of day doth soft light make?" "Not much for light of day has sung." "Why strain we oft to find sun's rays?" "The day seems safer than the night." "Why doth the Bard make dark his plays?" "All mystery hath deeper bite." "Lost Romeo doth scale the wall to find his Juliet in robe." "'Oh, Romeo, wherefore art thou?' calls the longing lass in sleepless mode." Dumb Claudio thinks he spies a trist 'tween Hero and a mindless foe. The death of honor wrangles gist, until the truth we finally know. The sun has set on lovers' boasts in these and stories more long writ by Bard in plays with quills made toast with words now scripted fast as wit. Dear Kate, untamed by average beau, Petruchio steals her sleep and food. Bianca, sweet, to whom men go is finally thought as not so good. The Bard hath shown what all men think. The sun shows truth as brightness shines, but sunset leads some to the brink of witlessness for love is blind. by Jay O’Toole on October 15th, 2025   {/center}   |
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