Moonrise is not forever, so in this brief hour while we are tidal, ebbing and flowing, show me your light. —Lorna Cahall This love poem appeared in Every Day Poems. Subscribe now, for a year of happy mornings. Check out Funny Love Songs Check out Romantic Love Songs . . .
Sonnet 130: My Mistress’ Eyes are Nothing like the Sun
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there . . .
Ontology
She can be a nest. She's got the necessary equipment. Two breasts you could rest your head between. She can be a string of pearls, rounded between your fingers, as you count the time between ivory knots. She is, yes, the artichoke with the impossible heart a man might seek for . . .
Sonnet 1
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain, Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,— I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, Studying inventions . . .
A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the . . .
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