...continued...
. .. ... .... v ...... ........ ......... ......... x: poem (meter or rhyme)
And yet thy beard so sacred blessed,
Without thee, mine face look distressed.
Enough of this, ye friend or foe?
So much I cut, so much thy grow.
Or better yet, I have to say,
"Mine face, thy home, beg thee to stay"
Extoll thy shape, thine chin-strap-folk!
Nary yet, so thick I'd hoped,
Except to thou, aged three or four.
So shall thy stay, I thee implore?
Should thy tarry forever more?
A letter to my students
7 years ago
BAAAAH!
For a minute I thought you were quoting Bronte, but then I figured she probably didn't have a beard...let alone chin straps. I had no idea you were so vastly talented. BTW- I didn't get that drawing you made. It's still at your house instead of on it's way to mine-like it should be. Maybe someone with a better memory than us can make sure it comes to Ennis for Hannah's party??? BAH
Wow...I didn't know you were a poet...The mom is always the last to know!!
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