Our Poetry will indeed warm us
The other evening, as the wind heaved its breezy chest in the day’s final sigh, and the parting warmth of a retreating sun bid the somber land adieu in a tender embrace of dusky farewell – a butterfly; a handsome fellow with willowy antennae, broad speckled wings and quite a bit of courage, flew up to me and quipped;
‘‘All that is done in love, is done well …’’
It took me a moment to recollect myself and admire the wee fellow’s arthropoid guts and artistic temperament – as his arcane quotation of the post-impressionist Dutch painter, Vincent van Gogh, revealed.
‘‘And what would you know of love, little man!’’ queried I, flustered.
The little chap opened his mandibles slightly, and I reckoned he would respond with a detailed polemic; but he must have thought the better of it – for his antennae drooped a notch, and a little color…
View original post 709 more words