DRAFT 1
Shall I compare theeto a slice of pie ?
Thou art more rounded and thy crest doth shine

With rippled lines that sweet with apples lie
And make me feast my taste, on this of thine 

Within, thy heart is sweet and tartly bright
Soft warming flesh of berry lieth near
I taste thy lips each morsel pleasure-bite
And trace thy soul within each sugared tear

Shall I compare thee to a slice of toast ?
Thou art more burnished bronze and gay

Thine arms divine, with tan of car’mel boast
Thy bosom most abundant where my head I lay
     As long as men can see and lips can trace
     As long lives thee, then this gives life its pace 

DRAFT 2
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
     So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 W.Shakespeare, 1595
1564 – 1616 

Burnt

I am an Amateur Gynaecologist with a love of Maidenhair Ferns and a fondness for interpreting Vermeer's Paintings as Metaphors ...

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