TAKING care of this thing called love - or this thing called marriage - is not for the faint of heart.
Like being a parent you can't let this "child" out of your sight. It mustn't lose its significance, its promise and its purpose.
This lady knows it. When the pages of the book close, ooh la la! What's that she's singing? Is it a song of love to him, or a song of woe to herself. (She looks a bit sad, doesn't she?)
Days turn into months, months turn into years and before we know it we can lose sight of the desired object we once wanted over anything else.
Perhaps her sweet voice will charm this Romeo again.
And this dry leaf of summer is getting a tiny bit of rain in Oregon today. Very tiny. Almost gone now. Thanks for sticking with me if you're reading this. More tomorrow, I promise - femminismo
p.s. I'm going to do a Labor Day shrine with Candace at EyeCandy! A shrine to love, perhaps? ; )