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" Sonnet 130 "

Vikash

Vikash

Philomath & Narcissistic
Senior's
Chat Pro User
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 more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
 
Ajay said:
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 more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Click to expand...
how lucky you are..
 
It is raining today
I wish, by me you would stay
You would warm me down with your heat
I could lie on you, listening to your heart beat.
Each rain drop reminds me
That I miss so many precious moments without you
But still my hopes never fade
And I believe my dreams will seem day come time.
Every time I feel cold,
I wish a blanket, on me you will fold.
When I look at the sky
Unfortunately by me you don't stand
I kneel down crying in the rain
Because no one can see my tears and pain.
Then I console myself with this felling
That we both are under the same ceiling.
When I see a lovely lane,
Wet with the shower of rain
I'd wish with you to take a walk
Really slow with our hands locked.
The smell of the flooding rain
A promising beauty adding to nature again.
Above all who will want to miss
In the pouring rain a warm kiss
I wish and do believe I will get
Sunday, seem time the dreams that I set
Because I know that my love is time.
I do hope you understand it too...
 
Ajay said:
It is raining today
I wish, by me you would stay
You would warm me down with your heat
I could lie on you, listening to your heart beat.
Each rain drop reminds me
That I miss so many precious moments without you
But still my hopes never fade
And I believe my dreams will seem day come time.
Every time I feel cold,
I wish a blanket, on me you will fold.
When I look at the sky
Unfortunately by me you don't stand
I kneel down crying in the rain
Because no one can see my tears and pain.
Then I console myself with this felling
That we both are under the same ceiling.
When I see a lovely lane,
Wet with the shower of rain
I'd wish with you to take a walk
Really slow with our hands locked.
The smell of the flooding rain
A promising beauty adding to nature again.
Above all who will want to miss
In the pouring rain a warm kiss
I wish and do believe I will get
Sunday, seem time the dreams that I set
Because I know that my love is time.
I do hope you understand it too...
Click to expand...
Rain is always romantic.
 
760d186660cfa9ba0ff44c3245e66144.jpg
 
Ajay said:
It is raining today
I wish, by me you would stay
You would warm me down with your heat
I could lie on you, listening to your heart beat.
Each rain drop reminds me
That I miss so many precious moments without you
But still my hopes never fade
And I believe my dreams will seem day come time.
Every time I feel cold,
I wish a blanket, on me you will fold.
When I look at the sky
Unfortunately by me you don't stand
I kneel down crying in the rain
Because no one can see my tears and pain.
Then I console myself with this felling
That we both are under the same ceiling.
When I see a lovely lane,
Wet with the shower of rain
I'd wish with you to take a walk
Really slow with our hands locked.
The smell of the flooding rain
A promising beauty adding to nature again.
Above all who will want to miss
In the pouring rain a warm kiss
I wish and do believe I will get
Sunday, seem time the dreams that I set
Because I know that my love is time.
I do hope you understand it too...
Click to expand...
So beautiful bro
 
Ajay said:
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 more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Click to expand...
Lovely bro
 
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest;

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
p-cover-shall-i-compare-thee-to-a-summers-day-1x1-400-q40.jpg
 
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gather
ing swallows twitter in the skies.




p-cover-to-autumn-1x1-400-q40.jpg
 
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can
make a tree.


p-cover-trees-by-joyce-kilmer-1x1-400-q40.jpg
 
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love
is done.


cover-the-night-has-a-thousand-eyes-1x1-400-q40.jpg
 
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