I am afraid that my praise of my wife is nowhere near as eloquent as Anne Bradstreet, Puritan poet, wrote to her husband. But we must start somewhere, no?
If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers canneot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
Men Don’t Dress Like Boys
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I’ve noticed something you’ve probably noticed too. Grown men dressing like
boys. In a typical American restaurant, you’ll find 30- and 40-something
men ...
13 hours ago
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