My gaia isn't working, so I'm reposting my journal entry in here.
ok, change of plans. Queen mabs too long, I'm doing romeos.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound
But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
Tis the east, and juliet is the sun
arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon
who is already sick and pale with grief
for thou, her maid, art far more fair than she
be not her maid, since she is jealous
her vestial livery is sick and green,
and non but fools do wear it! cast it off
Oh it is my lady oh it is my love!
That she knew she were..
She speaks, yet says nothing..
what of this?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it!
I am too bold. tis not to me she speaks
two of the fairest stars in all of heaven
having some business do entreat her eyes
to twinkl;e int heir spheres till they return
what if her eyes were there, they in her head?
the brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
as daylight doth a lamp, her eyes in heaven
would through airy regions stream so bright
that birds would sing and think it were not night
see how she leans her cheek upon that hand
Oh that i might be that glove that I might touch that cheek
Ay ME!
she speaks! Oh speak again bright angel!
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head
as a winged messanger of heaven
to white upturned wond'ring eyes
of mortals who fall back to gaze on him
as he bestrides the lazy clouds
and sails forth on a bosom of air
 Bewitchedh · Tue Jan 24, 2006 @ 04:17am · 1 Comments |
