Friday, December 24, 2010

Federer



So gentlemanly.  So handsome.  So classy.

And a great dresser, might I add...

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

St. Patrick's Day



Here comes the cold
Break out the winter clothes
And find a love to call your own
You - enter you
Your cheeks a shade of pink
And the rest of you in powder blue

Who knows what will be
But I'll make you this guarantee

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time

In the dark, on the phone
You tell me the names of your brothers
And your favorite colors
I'm learning you
And when it snows again
We'll take a walk outside
And search the sky
Like children do
I'll say to you

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
And come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?

And we'll both be safe 'til St. Patrick's Day

We should take a ride tonight around the town
and look around at all the beautiful houses
something in the way that blue lights on a black night
can make you feel more
everybody, it seems to me, just wants to be
just like you and me

No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
Come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?

And if our always is all that we gave
And we someday take that away
I'll be alright if it was just 'til St. Patrick's Day

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.  Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark, 
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
     If this be error and upon me proved, 
     I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

-William Shakespeare