Unsophisticated rythme; The unspoken loveI miss
literature lesson back in MI days, somehow.
This is dedicated to the boy,
pumpkin.
O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy powerDost hold Time's fickle glass his fickle hour;Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'stThy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st.If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skillMay Time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill.Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!She may detain, but not still keep her treasure.Her audit, though delayed, answered must be,And her quietus is to render thee. - Sonnet 126William Shakespeare How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday'sMost quiet need, by sun and candlelight.I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to useIn my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.I love thee with a love I seemed to loseWith my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.-Elizabeth Barrett Browning Honey, i love you. (: