That Time of Year

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang .. Will Shakespeare

Reading Sonnet 73 you might conclude that Shakespeare was thinking more of October than March. With permission to take poetic license with the poet I wish to dab a bit of color on his melancholy picture. There seems not a hope of green anywhere on the brown and frozen ground at our house today. But we trust that the daffodils are secretly beginning a struggle to sing Spring’s first notes and the forsythias will join them in harmony.

For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5

March 2012 011

That Time of Year

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