Brothers and Sisters

But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree

Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard

Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye

To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit,

From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.

You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps

Of miser’s treasure by an outlaw’s den,

And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope

Danger will wink on Opportunity,

And let a single helpless maiden pass

Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste.

Of night or loneliness it recks me not;

I fear the dread events that dog them both,

Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person

Of our unownéd sister.

John Milton, Comus: A Masque Presented at Ludlow Castle

Angela's Birthday

Today is my wife's birthday, and I thought I'd post a short poem I wrote for her. All men should write poetry for their wives, though they will, understandably, complain of a lack of time, or of inspiration. This bit of verse (poor though it is, I've no doubt), written during my lunch break at work, proves that an unromantic setting can (with imagination) be overcome, and that even such time as we have can be put to some use.

May the day of your birth be remembered always,
By all who love Goodness, her Motherly ways;
By all who love Truth, who from her would not part;
By all who love Beauty, her glory and art.

May the day of your birth be never forgotten,
By all of your children, unborn and begotten;
By kith and by kin, by allies and foes;
By a bridegroom whose love for you kindles and glows.