Oh Brave World

I am looking out at you from my window above.
Ever dreaming,
Ever scheming,
Wondering what the next day will bring.

I am sitting on a tire swing at a friend's house.
Falling backwards while holding the chains,
Rust marks on my hands later transferred to my jeans,
Hand-me-downs, maybe,
Or pants I've long outgrown.

I am lost in a City I've yet to outgrow.
Asking for directions from an Irish tourist,
I find my way again,
Until my next venture, at least.

I am lost on a dirt road by a swampy marsh.
Grandpa tells me to turn off at a certain path,
A grassy knoll I never find,
My shotgun and the cattails my only companions.

I am running through a corn field with my dog.
She likes to trip me by running too closely behind,
So we walk to a creek filled with deer bones instead,
And design a fort of sticks.

(photo via This is Glamorous)

Pic of the Day #2

Okay, so once again I am posting photos that have nothing to do with living in New York. But these are too funny to be ignored!
(via Confessions of a Pioneer Woman)

Have a great weekend everyone!

Pic of the Day

I never thought I'd see a cow reading William Butler Yeats. But here it is. Oh Bessie, do you ever long for your own Maude Gonne?

She's thinking:
-"Aye me, sad hours seem long."
-"Yes, Erin...Forlorn, I must travel this world alone."
-"I'm so hungry."

She's reading:
"Brown Penny"

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.'
Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

Photo courtesy of Bedlam Farm.

To Sleep, Perchance to....

So I dream a lot. And as an extension of this, I talk in my sleep a lot. Sleep talking is a form of sleep apnea known to the science community as "somniloquoy." Most people outgrow it by adolescence, but I guess I'm not most people. I have to admit, it's pretty easy to entertain friends/family with all the weird babblings, squeaks and bleets unconsciously coming out of my mouth. The result is sometimes profound, sometimes incriminating, and often random. A sampling of outbursts:

"I can't find my underwear!"

"Puppies..." *tosses head* "Puppies..."

"Puppies."

-*Babbling noises*-

"People cannot see what is right in front of them..." (first line of song composed in sleep)

"NO!"

"Who are you? Where's the baby?"

That last one was relayed to me by my boyfriend, who was a tad disgruntled upon hearing it, to say the least.