Monthly Archives: January 2015

Finally Done

Posted by David Emeron on

I believe I have finally finished updating all sequence links to the new “Link” format.  Previously, I had been using a custom menu widget, and had slowly but surely been redoing these links one at a time until just recently having finished the final link.  Now it is much easier to move sequence links from “coming” to “new” to “featured,” &c.  So…  I have finally dispensed with the old menu widget in favor of a new crop of “link” widgets.  I thought I would never get it done.  But it has finally been completed.

On the gripe side of things:  The Zemanta plugin appears not to be working any longer.  Did wordpress.com dispense with their relationship with Zemanta?  I really found it quite useful, and, if it is true that Zemanta is gone, I will mourn its loss.  But what can one do?

Sonnet VI: Nurtured Nature

Posted by David Emeron on

I lay in thought, while others raced ahead.
Until I understood what friendship was.
I chose to look, while others leapt  instead,
And learned what loving is, and what it does.

I searched inside, while many never could,
To troll the depths and nature of desire,
Though scorned, I searched until I understood
The metal that would fealty require.

I learned; and kept  my friendship, burning love,
And deep desire, gilt like royalty;
For now, I knew the worth and nature of
Such strong emotions wrapped in loyalty:

So nurtured, close together, as they grew,
Until the day I gave them all to you.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Sonnet V: Bad Times

Posted by David Emeron on

Love, have I hurt you, yet you love me still;
When I am bitter; still you understand;
You knew I was alone, and took my hand;
And knew I loved you as I always will.

Love me, as I love you, though you’ve hurt me;
So fine you are, how could I but forgive;
The girl whose magic taught a boy to live;
The woman who would teach a man to see.

We never let our circumstance prevail;
And ever after felt our bold belief;
What power, this, may triumph over grief;
And leaves but little meaningless travail.

Not fire for strength, to grist the mill, nor more
To climb–No hill–but bad times to ignore.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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