now I know
exactly why
romeo ached to be
the glove on juliets hand
as she rested her cheek upon it
or why their kiss
was the purest sacrilege,
a ritual made by
a hypocritic priest.
it's the same
reason that petruchio
tamed the unruly
shrew, the reason
seeing you causes
the tempest to
arise in me
again and again.
i am not caesar's coward
that dies a thousand deaths. for
i am rejoicing in this
sweet sorrow no matter what
it brings. this is the
reason why i will
always compare you
to a summers day
even in the dead of
winter.
All your poems are beautifully written. If only I could write like you, I would never have to worry about ruining my good name.
This poem really is both lovely and cool! ! ! I don't know if you understand how much talent you're giving birth to, keep writing, young one. Uriah
Excellent poem Ebone, I enjoyed the read, thankyou--Melvina--
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impressive penning, young lady...Image & metaphor abounds & propels this striking slice of eloquence...Solid craftsmanship, indeed, Ebone... ~F. j. R. ~