Sunday, November 27, 2011

Let me not...

to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.

Love is not love

which alters when it alteration finds,

 Or bends with the remover to remove

O, no!

It is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempest, and is never shaken.

It is the star to every wandering bark


Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his binding sickle's compass come;

Love altars not with his brief hours and weeks

But bears it out

even to the edge of doom.

If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor man ever loved.

William Shakespeare ~  116th Sonnet

Today marks three years  that I have been blessed to call this man mine. Read  about what was happening in this period of our lives three years ago in Parts IX,  X, XII, and XIII of Our Story (I seem to have skipped a Part XI).

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