Still (life?) of Jane's manuscript of Emma, Volume I, packed in the suitcase for a trip to Ken, from Miss Austen Regrets (2009, Gwyneth Hughes, Anne Pivcevic)
Just now my heart is easy.
I sit and work on my book.
It is not a book of verse,
it is a book whose sober title is
"The Austen Films" -- though maybe
it ought to be "Austen on DVD" (!).
It's good, I know it is.
I'm happy while I'm doing it.
I hope to publish it someday
in paper with covers, hard back,
you know the sort of thing I mean.
But if I do not, what then?
I have these hours.
For another set of sudden verses, "She longs for home ..."
Journalizing, 5/20/10: well, maybe I'm like Samantha Morton playing Sophia Western in the 1997 BBC Tom Jones who protests loudly her heart is easy when it is in great distress. I was yesterday when I thought I had lost two days of revision through incompetent use of my computer.
But this from Wompo: by William Yeats:
The friends that have it I do wrong
Whenever I remake a song
Should know what issue is at stake,
It is myself that I remake.