Poem for Monday

Sonnet CXLVI: Poor Soul, the Centre of my Sinful Earth
By William Shakespeare

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
Fool'd by these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

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I'm doing an experiment. If you're reading this line (and if LJ cooperates), would you do me a favor and leave a comment -- it can just be "Yes." Anonymously, if you're lurking. Thanks.

I'm home from Pennsylvania, where we spent yesterday in absolutely perfect overcast high 70s weather at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire, where they had the best jousting I've seen live and a number of hilarious stage shows. Regrettably, the falconer is apparently not there this year, or at least has not been yet, but we kept quite busy anyway. And no one told me they had crab cakes! Good crab cakes! Not to mention fried Oreos, pina coladas in those giant plastic skinny cups with enormous straws, and a place with a chocolate fondue fountain. So I am well-fed and well-entertained! Am hoping to get to the Maryland Renaissance Festival within the next couple of weeks as well.


The Queen and the court at the tournament grounds. Scotland defeated England in the early competition and Her Majesty was not amused.


In the Globe Theatre, the flaming swords of Don Juan and Miguel. (Yes, of course there were jokes about that.) Miguel also got hot dog fingers so Don Juan could slice them off, which was not as funny as when he got a balloon wiener -- at least according to my kids, the expert arbiters of taste in my family.


This guy, swallowing flames on the Rose Stage, did my kids' favorite schtick of the entire fair. He stands on a ball and juggles flaming torches, which he has members of the audience toss to him. One woman tossed hers early and he said she would be talking to her friends: "'What did you do at the fair?' 'Oh, I had a beer and watched some jousting. What did you do?' 'I killed a juggler! Hah!'"


Here, for who thankfully recommended that we check this out, a photo of the glassblowing demonstration building and crowd around it...


...and the glassblower, making an hourglass. (He assured us repeatedly that he was doomed because the base was too thick. It worked out anyway.) We were also pleased to discover that one of the armories was located inside a pirate ship.


My father in law is a Lutheran pastor. Here he is with the Bishop outside the church, making both his job and his outfit anachronistic.


This was the hottest guy on horseback. Unfortunately I did not get a single photo where you can see his face!