Sunday Kipling

Took an AR out to the local range and participated in some trigger therapy. Ended up deciding my HBAR needs to go so I'll clean it up and pack it off to my gun guy for a sale. I'm really paring down the gun safes to only what I really want and what I shoot often. This is a gun I bought 7 years ago and haven't even fired until today. Yeah, it's time to say goodbye to it. I believe I'll load up the grill with a few pounds of chicken for dinner.

I hope this Sunday finds you all well and happy. Take care.

Six

The Craftsman

Once, after long-drawn revel at The Mermaid,
He to the overbearing Boanerges
Jonson, uttered (if half of it were liquor,
                    Blessed be the vintage!)

Saying how, at an alehouse under Cotswold,
He had made sure of his very Cleopatra,
Drunk with enormous, salvation-contemning
                    Love for a tinker.

How, while he hid from Sir Thomas's keepers,
Crouched in a ditch and drenched by the midnight
Dews, he had listened to gipsy Juliet
                    Rail at the dawning.

How at Bankside, a boy drowning kittens
Winced at the business; whereupon his sister--
Lady Macbeth aged seven--thrust 'em under,
                     Sombrely scornful.

How on a Sabbath, hushed and compassionate--
She being known since her birth to the townsfolk--
Stratford dredged and delivered from Avon
                     Dripping Ophelia

So, with a thin third finger marrying
Drop to wine-drop domed on the table,
Shakespeare opened his heart till the sunrise--
                     Entered to hear him.

London waken and he, imperturbable,
Passed from waking to hurry after shadows   .   .   .
Busied upon shows of no earthly importance?
                    Yes, but he knew it!