Tennyson
-

We’ve created a false dilemma (aka the either-or fallacy): “Either you remain a child or you become an adult.” And in a time where adultescence has spread like an infectious disease, it seems fitting that we raise high the banner of adulthood and call these basement-dwelling game-playing job-quitting children into the responsibilities and expectations that
-

All the world’s a stage,And all the men and women merely players:They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. Jaques, from Shakespeare’s As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7 Time. Shakespeare notes the Seven Ages of Man. Others refer to the four seasons
-

Tennyson remains one of my favorite British poets. As this year winds down and the new year dawns, Tennyson’s bells ring loudly from the past into our present, ringing out hope for the future in something bigger than we can touch or see. Rather than waste your time with my preface, I’d rather you slow
-

Though you likely won’t find this excerpt from Tennyson’s immortal poem In Memoriam A. H. H. on any top ten list of love poems (by the way, here’s a list I liked), I would argue that section 27 deserves the honor of being labeled one of the most powerful love poems ever written. Tennyson commemorates
-

Autumn has always been my favorite season. Perhaps my birthday coming shortly after the autumnal equinox has biased me in favor of this rich time of harvest and change, but as I meditated on turning forty-six and my desire to live to be one hundred years old, the following sonnet emerged. I struggled to capture
-
Just over a year ago, I intended to post this poem. Tonight, it felt fitting. How easily I allow deceit to choke my peace! How easily I simply give up, rather than fight on despite the odds, frustrations, or fears. It’s just easier to believe the lie or kneel to fear. The Greco-Roman myths, full
