O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.
What is love? ‘Tis not hereafter,
Present mirth hath present laughter,
What’s to come is still unsure.
In delay there lies no plenty,
So come kiss me sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
Shy love, I think of you
As the morning air brushes the window pane,
And how much time of all it takes to know
The movement of your arm, the steps you take,
The curves along your head, your ears, your hair.
For all of this, each hand, each finger,
Each lip, each breath, each sigh,
Each word and sound of voice or tongue,
I would require an age to contemplate.
But for your heart your mind your thoughts, all these,
To love them all I need at least five centuries.
Sometimes I think
Our heads might be enclosed
Closer together upon the pillow’s space,
And how into the dark deeps of your eyes
I’d look and think of angels. Then your breath
And all the aura of your body’s breathing
Intoxicatedly would overwhelm me
And I would die. For it is too much
That such a thing should be and I should live.
Surely the thought is greater than reality,
The sum of you and love outsteps infinity.
If happiness were like
The flowers of June then I would take
The best of them, roses and columbine,
The lilies, and bind them in your hair.
They are not more beautiful but they add
Meaning to my love. For all our words
Are short and lame of breath and stumble,
And you surpass them though I know not why.
Shy love I think of you as the day wanes
And as the sun sinks deep into the ocean
And as the stars turn round above in silent motion.
In Praise of Beauty
Of all my loves this is the first and last
That in the autumn of my years has grown,
A secret fern, a violet in the grass,
A final leaf where all the rest are gone.
Would that I could give all and more, my life,
My world, my thoughts, my arms, my breath, my future,
My love eternal, endless, infinite, yet brief,
As all loves are and hopes, though they endure.
You are my sun and stars, my night, my day,
My seasons, summer, winter, my sweet spring,
My autumn song, the church in which I pray,
My land and ocean, all that the earth can bring
Of glory and of sustenance, all that might be divine,
My alpha and my omega, and all that was ever mine.
Happie Valentines day my bubby and better half butter boy😘💞
“If I should think of love
I’d think of you, your arms uplifted,
Tying your hair in plaits above,
The lyre shape of your arms and shoulders,
The soft curve of your winding head.
No melody is sweeter, nor could Orpheus
So have bewitched. I think of this,
And all my universe becomes perfection.
But were you in my arms, dear love,
The happiness would take my breath away,
No thought could match that ecstasy,
No song encompass it, no other worlds.
If I should think of love,
I’d think of you.”
Love has no end that includes ours too😄
valentines day to all my lovely friends spread and pour love to all❤
Bridal Song by William Shakespeare
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;
Primrose, firstborn child of Ver;
Merry springtime’s harbinger,
With her bells dim;
Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
All dear Nature’s children sweet
Lie ‘fore bride and bridegroom’s feet,
Blessing their sense!
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
Be absent hence!
The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chattering pye,
May on our bride-house perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring,
But from it fly!
Aubade by William Shakespeare
HARK! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings,
And Phoebus ‘gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty bin,
My lady sweet, arise!