by Emily Brontë
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
All snowed in again, pipes frozen, laptop down with virus...but after all's said and done, it doesn't really matter! I started reading The Passage by Justin Cronin - it could afford lose about a hundred pages and a dozen characters but it's a real page turner and I can't put it down...so a bit of snow doesn't really compare to legions of vampire virals that stalk the world I actually reside in at the moment!
Blessed Solstice and Keep Warm!
Don't forget to feed the birds! (And your family!)