So I’m a big nerd for Shakespeare, and with fall weather springing up it reminded me of this chilling autumn sonnet. No its not super uplifting, but it does have elements of romance and definitely befits the mood of the season. Take a sip of some hot cider you poetry lovers and enjoy Sonnet 73, which had me pondering how though everything in this life will eventually pass away, much as leaves in fall, that fragile brevity is the very thing that makes our love all the sweeter and stronger…as we cherish and cling to the passing moments we do have together in this life. Enjoy!
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Sonnet 73 William Shakespeare’