Shakespearean Sonnet 130  

SheFellFrmtheSky 33F
33 posts
7/30/2006 12:38 pm

Last Read:
8/25/2006 8:48 am

Shakespearean Sonnet 130

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 her breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleaing sound. I grant I never saw a goddes 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.

rm_marnisway 85F
5018 posts
7/30/2006 1:58 pm

...welcome to the blogs...
very nice



Nothing is ever the same... when it comes to pleasures.

with a hint....the erotic senses will manifest into an abounding mess of flesh

the mind needs fulfillment of the body

if it feels good is good

I've done it again...*S*

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