Now, to delight my dear and cherished reader with a piece of Catholic literature, hot off the notepad:
Sonnet XXXI to Atrius, Imaginary Girl
All life, white matte mirror of Gloria-
Clustered Heaven, is less marred here, my dear
And sustenance three paces off; you hear
Without corruption my each sin's aria.
Your fellow confection-soul's brittle prayer,
Eyes each an iron forge, too pretty, too
Incandescent, vulnerable, and true
To dogmas all romance thick meadow air:
A lulled, casual, and cute countenance
Her witness against allied mean nettles,
Dark proud courtyard crysanthemum petals
When they aloof afeared flee God our Prince
And Grand Captain. Us two bind, Vice Killer
Full in chains of heaven's first day's pillar.
I think this well characterizes the young love of we Traditionalists. Women, we know, are bright hydrogen stars of virginality as against our rather...distracted minds. Yet they are physically weaker, and emotionally vacillating, so we ought to adore them and adore protecting them. Well maybe Sonnet XXXI didn't say all of that, but I feel that third to only the loss of belief in basic dogmas and the Novus Ordo, the largest reason for the Faith's decay is the lack of contemporary Catholic literature in most Catholic homes. I mean, the best stuff most collaborationist Catholics have are Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees and The Mermaid's Chair (no, I haven't read them, but both my mother's testimony and the summaries in ads have revealed them as sacreligious and arch-modernistic). Please support authentic Catholic literature. Read the classics, but because [as our liberal brethren ever remind us] we can't live in the past, please support contemporary works, even by such small acts as reading and commenting on such blogs as mine and http://long-skirts.blogspot.com.
One more thing. When writing vocab sentences for AP Senior English, I penned this line, which goes along well with mindset of the romantic Traditionalist-
My pretty little narcoleptic wife fainted whenever she fell into a rapture.