And Amy Lee dug nights, wild nights, and hefty organ tunes.
So Dick’s son dug this Amy Lee and both turned toward eternity,
Encompassed Dad’s circumference:
Amy Lee, Dick, and Son.
Eager for his long betrothéd –
Garments’ royal verse she clothéd
Him, her decades’ virgin’s pining —
Pine plank bedsheets be their linen.
Burn no manuscript for incense
Even at her own insistence!
Square church altar not the nuptial:
Buttercup’d mound their sepulchre.
Sister Livvie saves the verses —
Libbie’s inner universes —
Luminate the world-wide now,
Eclipse our theft-saved almost-curses!
Yet Bronte Emily stands to faint, to
Waft her life like fumes from paint; is
This your laugh, tuberculosis?
Sister knows a diagnosis.
Charlotte’s claim: for Emmie’s fame she
Touched the Heights’ sequel to flame. Yet
Buried siblings know no shame. Has
Char charred criticisms down? Or
Burned her own — a green-eyed gown?
Anthropology, linguistics, archaeology, and writing systems
Wandering through the world of words and language
Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis
You need the world, and the world needs good people.
Teacher, Author, Christian, Wife, Foster Mother, and Youth Sponsor...not necessarily in that order
Creating an enviroment for sexual purity, starting with the heart
Reading, writing and a-rhythmic tics
creativity : art : philosophy : productivity : writing
Discover Magically Whimsical Art Jewelry Creations