About two years ago, on their 38th wedding anniversary, "M" pledged to "N" that he would pen forty love sonnets - - - in imitation of Elizabeth Barrett Browning - - - to celebrate their looming fortieth. 02/28/2014 arrived sooner than anticipated, holding hands with "what might have been" and there were only 20 of the promised sonnets, 19 of which are included within this little book. Happy anniversary "N"! This little book is for you with all of my love forever. It's not quite what I promised. However, it is our "M&N" brand, our children, our grandchildren, our pets, and of course our pet peeves.
About the Author: I've been writing my words down for almost fifty years, which reminds me of an anecdote... The day my father received a grade report on me from the University of Scranton for the fall semester of 1965 we would manage to muddle through this now-humorous conversation... "What's this English major nonsense, Michael?" "We had to choose a major." "Well, I told you to become an accountant." "But I have no - - - " "You haven't been listening to a word I said, have you Michael?" "But, but I have no interest in accounting." My father was firm with me: No buts please! What kind of job does an English major get?" I realized there was no winning argument against his commands, I blurted out a half-truth: "I'm going to be a poet." "Huh, what does that pay?" "Maybe nothing Dad, but it's my decision." Dad had won: "Foolish work that pays a man nothing!" My father was educated in the classrooms of hard times following "The Great Depression." Dad was forced to leave school after the eighth grade and he became a Teamster; he started out unloading trucks, which was perhaps a better job than his father and two brothers who were coal miners worked. Following his service with the Army Corps of Engineers in The Philippines during World War II, my father, who would return home suffering from malaria, drove truck for a wholesale company. One of Dad's delivery stops was for sale and he invested his GI Bill grant to purchase our family's grocery store and the home above it. Dad died of a massive coronary at 58 years; the man was the father of nine children, grandfather to fifteen and presently has nine great-grandchildren. There was almost no humor to be discovered at the conclusion of the above exchange between my father and me. I never became an accountant; I taught in two Catholic elementary schools for 6 years and Dad used his influence in the community to help me get my first teaching position. I worked at any number of odd jobs including a couple of years with a construction company rebuilding the streets of Luzerne County after the 1972 Agnes Flood; I quit that job and went to nursing school; I worked as a professional nurse for twenty-three years; I retired in 2004 and continue to write my words down. Became interested in self-publishing a year ago, joined "createspace" and began reading their monthly newsletters, which I do admit have frightened me away until this moment. I'm going to test those proverbial waters Dad.