…ways quite mysterious.  Today’s sonnet, and it’s companion are written in response or reflection to this post.  These few offhand words by Lady Day struck me a certain way–sparked, one might say a memory.  Regarding the nature of love, and work, and how, so very often, hard work is the very way, particularly among men, in which we most often express our love.  Need it be that way?  I do not believe myself to be a perfect judge of such things.  I will here state that it may depend somewhat on temperament.  I have found it in myself at times, to be necessary–or at least to seem so–to make myself harder and more practical–and this can, very naturally, push ones romantic nature to the back, while bringing to the fore ones desire to do such practical things as life may sometimes demand. Continue reading →