Some people come and go in your lives,
Some people are here to stay,
Some people leave marks,
Some people make life a game.
But I want you to stay,
Yet I want you to move on,
I want no heartbreak,
And I want life to remain the same.
To pause everything.
To take life slow.
To remember your smell, your eyes,
To forget that you have to go.
So tonight I'll say my goodbyes,
Blessing you, thanking you,
For you made my life colourful,
*It’s been at least three months since the last post. What can I say? I’m really, terribly sorry! Though it seems that every time I apologize for my delays, I take longer the next time. Anyway, here it is…constructive criticism not only welcome, but politely requested.*
Chapter Three: That’s Why We’re Free
The mind of J. R. R. Tolkien amazes me. Here is a man who developed his own fictional world, with history, peoples, languages, stories, and legends to an extent that no other author has ever been able to do. I will not even say that Tolkien is the Homer or Virgil of our day – in my opinion, he far surpassed both of them put together.
**Part Three and still going strong... I wonder how many more parts it will be before the end...? Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts, and of course, Enjoy! :) **
**Happy New Year, everybody! Here is part two. I would love to hear your thoughts on this second installment. Hope you enjoy! :) **
...My normally spotless room looks like it suffered a direct hit from an RPG.
...The spiders with whom I am forever making war (my bedroom is in the basement) have recaptured the entire southern sector of my bedroom.
...I have eaten more cereal, raisins, and cheese in the month of December than in the rest of my life combined.
...I haven't posted on Apricot Pie for two months.
...Both of my blogs have been woefully neglected.
...My run-amuck yorkie terrier has eaten two of my dad's leather gloves in the last week.
(This one is an imitation of Thomas Merton's "To the Immaculate Virgin, On A Winter Night")
Lady, the light is searing and we sink
Into the shade of the old trees.
The clouds drift by and puncture our world
With pieces of mercy, subtle as the sun’s fall
And relentless as the rise of the new day.
Where in the world has any heart
Turned to you, Lady, for the grace that’s within your reach?
