(FYI: Every month I pick a poem to share in a post. Keeps my mind working and is fun to see what others think.)
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
by William Shakespeare
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 grown 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.
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Did you laugh? I did. I personally love this sonnet. Makes me think: "If Matt wrote a love poem, would this be the kind I would want?" I used to think yes. But now things have changed, because to me, this is how I think Matt sees me. So it's more of a love/hate relationship I now have with it!
I am realizing that I am vain. What has brought this revelation? This pregnancy. It has not been nice to me--lots of skin problems which I am trying to resolve. If I put makeup on or blow dry my hair, it's a miracle of miracles! Any "runner's body" that I had last summer is long gone. And my long hair is no more... I like the short look, but I miss my long hair--makes me feel young.
So, Matt, if you could hold off on writing that love poem for another 2 months, that would be great! Give me time to get myself together after the birth/pregnancy, so that way if you add a line about beauty I might actually take it seriously!
What kind of love poem would you want? One filled with your beauty? One about your intelligence? Humor? Grace? It's something to think about anyway...
4 comments:
I remember reading this poem in Mrs. Owens class and thinking, "Geeze, this isn't romantic at all." But now I have my appreciation for it. It's the times when I wake in the morning with my curly hair going all directions, my breath reeking, and my makeup smeared when David will say, "You are so beautiful." That's when I believe it.
LOL I love Ashley's description. So true. I would like a poem about my intellect. I may be old and ragged, but hey, I got smarts! And VAIN???? Pish, that's the last word I would think of to associate with you! Pregnancy makes you WAY self- concious, but HELLO, your whole body is mutating, who wouldn't think about it all the time!?
You always look cute Shannon, for reals.
I understand though, pregnant or not, somedays we love our bodies, and...well...some days we...uh...don't. I think it is totally normal, tough at times, but normal.
Wow! Talk about a poem. I don't know what I would do if Judd wrote something like that. The last two lines are sweet at least.
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