IndieSouth

So my ‘daily’ intentions have not worked out so well, but I’ve got a good excuse. I’ve gone back to school to complete my Bachelor’s in English. To kick off my return to college, I chose to take British Literature I as my first English class. This was an especially difficult class - it was a time-condensed course (5 weeks at 2 hours a day, 5 days a week) with the normal amount of reading that goes with a literature survey. Compounding the difficulty, I work full time and could only attend 2 out of the 5 days per week. I made a deal with the professor where I would make up for the class quizzes and discussion that I would miss by writing an essay on whatever the class topic was on the days I was absent.

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Fresh earth, neatly tilled and furrowed for growth
At Spring’s eve, expectant of seeds unsown
To bear fruit of that which Shakespeare did quoth
And dear Sir Philip Sidney’s verse intone.
Yet the season was short for common yields
And the harvest relentlessly approach’d,
But I, divided among many fields,
Lost momentum as the reaping encroach’d.
My bushels were bare, and parch’d were my lands,
My scythe dull, the once rich soil now dry.
No purchase could roots find, as life demands,
And all hope of thy seeds to bloom did die.
Yet hope: my soil little life will len’
The bloodroses of thy judgmental pen.