Once again it’s breakfast and books: this time the poetry of dear W.H. Auden, who always enthralls. As he grew older, he seems to have gained clarity about his life that few of his contemporaries ever attained. This morning, I’m captivated by these words:

Now, as I mellow in years
and home in a bountiful landscape,
Nature allures me again.

Fondly I ponder You all:
without You I couldn’t have managed
even my weakest of lines.

Beautifully said. Auden expresses my gratitude to all of you better than I ever could.


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