VivTown, Population: 1

text, images, poetry, miscellany, marginalia

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Happy Birthday 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 grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, 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.

posted by viv at 9:37 am  


  1. The truth, it speaks…

    Comment by Sharyn — April 24, 2011 @ 11:58 am

  2. Hey girl…you sick again?

    As Cher said to Nic Cage in Moonstruck,

    Comment by Sharyn — May 3, 2011 @ 9:02 pm

  3. Thanks I needed that!

    Comment by Viv — May 5, 2011 @ 2:38 pm

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