Archive for September 2020

A poem by John Keats   When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I…

Don’t know if anyone remembers this show, QUEEN FOR A DAY, I vaguely do. But it’s there in my memory. I look back and recall the host asking a husband what his wife weighed, she steps from behind the curtain and is told to step on a scale. She obeys, giggling the whole time. The…