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.
I know what you are thinking, “For someone who is not crazy about poetry, Magaly sure posts a lot of it.” Well, I’m blaming it on Sarita, on my new poetry professor, on Dark Haiku Moon, on Shakespeare’s Dark Lady Sonnets and on the stimulating energies of the Dark Moon.
Enjoy Shakespeare’s Dark Lady, and if the magic of these old, ever new words inspire you to create something mysterious, delicious and beautiful, do share it with those of us who crave a bit of Pagan Fiction in 113 Words or Less.