The Monday Poem:<\/p>\n
ADAGE
\nby Billy Collins<\/p>\n
When it’s late at night and branches
\nare banging against the windows,
\nyou might think that love is just a matter<\/p>\n
of leaping out of the frying pan of yourself
\ninto the fire of someone else,
\nbut it’s a little more complicated than that.<\/p>\n
It’s more like trading the two birds
\nwho might be hiding in that bush
\nfor the one you are not holding in your hand.<\/p>\n
A wise man once said that love
\nwas like forcing a horse to drink
\nbut then everyone stopped thinking of him as wise.<\/p>\n
Let us be clear about something.
\nLove is not as simple as getting up
\non the wrong side of the bed wearing the emperor’s clothes.<\/p>\n
No, it’s more like the way the pen
\nfeels after it has defeated the sword.
\nIt’s a little like the penny saved or the nine dropped stitches.<\/p>\n
You look at me through the halo of the last candle
\nand tell me love is an ill wind
\nthat has no turning, a road that blows no good,<\/p>\n
but I am here to remind you,
\nas our shadows tremble on the walls,
\nthat love is the early bird who is better late than never.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Monday Poem:<\/p>\n
ADAGE
\nby Billy Collins<\/p>\n
When it’s late at night and branches
\nare banging against the windows,
\nyou might think that love is just a matter<\/p>\n
of leaping out of the frying pan of yourself
\ninto the fire of someone else,
\nbut it’s a little more complicated than that.<\/p>\n
It’s more like trading the two birds
\nwho might be hiding in that bush
\nfor the one you are not holding in your hand.<\/p>\n
A wise man once said that love
\nwas like forcing a horse to drink
\nbut then everyone stopped thinking of him as wise.<\/p>\n
Let us be clear about something.
\nLove is not as simple as getting up
\non the wrong side of the bed wearing the emperor’s clothes.<\/p>\n
No, it’s more like the way the pen
\nfeels after it has defeated the sword.
\nIt’s a little like the penny saved or the nine dropped stitches.<\/p>\n
You look at me through the halo of the last candle
\nand tell me love is an ill wind
\nthat has no turning, a road that blows no good,<\/p>\n
but I am here to remind you,
\nas our shadows tremble on the walls,
\nthat love is the early bird who is better late than never.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,26],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n