Poetry: When We Are Old and These Rejoicing Veins

When we are old and these rejoicing veins
Are frosty channels to a muted stream,
And out of all our burning there remains
No feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream,
This be our solace: that it was not said
When we were young and warm and in our prime,
Upon our couch we lay as lie the dead,
Sleeping away the unreturning time.
O sweet, O heavy-lidded, O my love,
When morning strikes her spear upon the land,
And we must rise and arm us and reprove
The insolent daylight with a steady hand,
Be not discountenanced if the knowing know
We rose from rapture but an hour ago. 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

A quick update

With the grandsons at my house all day every day, I'm getting very little done--including housework and blogging.  But we are having lots of fun and adventures.  The kids are loving it and it is so good for me.  I'm sure not on the couch!  Not to worry, all is well.  We just have to prioritize.  Hopefully, I'll catch up on some housework this weekend. 

The Return - movie review

Click this link to see my latest movie review, "The Return," a story of two Russian boys whose father returns after an unexplained 12-year absence.  This dark drama was a 2003 Golden Globes nominee for best foreign film.  I gave it five stars.