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When autumn came to Stoorland and the leaves were turning brown,

I heard the ancient marsh-toad speak

in Stock-Brook when the sun was down.

He showed me then the harvest moon with starlight for a crown

That shone upon the steady flow

of Stock-Brook when the sun was down.

He told me of the summer days before the chill came down,

Of light-bugs dancing in the breeze

I have been questioning my nature of late and I dare not voice these confessions verbally. As Mother had always taught me I will acknowledge my emotions, but I will never allow them to overcome me. They are a luxury that cannot be indulged. Sentiments hold no place in the shoes of a successful woman. In this world where Men would rather spend time underestimating what we Women are capable of. Wiles and charm go hand in hand. Does my conscious forbid me to do such a thing? Perhaps.

APPLE-WINE IN THE HEIGHT OF SUMMER

Found:

It's been a while since I last wrote in any other capacity but to speak with her. Now I feel compelled to do so for my own sake again.