Prithee, forgive your Will, groundlyngs, as I hath journy'd me to Stratford to see mine Anne. Mine internet connection in the countryside 'tis not as sounde as that I canst find in the worst of pubs in London. :-/ I didst enjoie my visit, and didst mark the birds seeking foode in wintertime. Here is mine sonnet 29, which doth speak of those moments when we do bemoan our fates, yet mighte finde some comfort with those we do love. I pray ye do have some one in thy life like this.
No comments:
Post a Comment