¡Hola! Everybody,
I’m prepping the walls to my entryway today and hopefully painting the foundation (red) tomorrow. The stencils haven’t arrived yet…
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
-- William Shakespeare
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 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.
* * *
Love,
Eddie
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