Author's Note: Now just as a warning, I am the world's WORST poet. But every time I fall behind on my commenting (meaning that I am--eek!--lurking, sorry) I have to say something, and lately I've been feeling that what I say gets repetitive. So here's my pathetic attempt at poetry, and may all the great poets out there forgive me!

am much like you.
I have responsibilities,
A job to go to,
Bills to pay,
People to see.

Exhaustion hits me at the end of the day.
There's no time for much except
Getting home,
Taking a shower,
Going to bed.

It's the days when I can get away
That I appreciate all I can.
And the tales keep me wondering
At the fates of characters
Whose fates I already know.

Poor Elizabeth, Marianne, Fanny,
Catherine, Anne, and Emma!
Every day finds one or all of them
Facing a new dilemma,
Each one as interesting as the day before's.

These tales keep me enthralled.
Even if I haven't the time to name each one,
Know that I enjoy them all
And that I keep reading every day I get the chance.

It takes a group of very talented writers
To make me care so much.
And even though I really didn't want this to rhyme---
Thanks so very much!
(And a special thanks to Ann, who keeps it all together!)