Must I contrast you to a summer's day?

You are more beautiful and collected.

Tornados damage the lands within May,

Thus summer's rent is briefly infected.

At times the blazing sky torch heats too much,

And others, her yellow features clouded;

As rain from thunder storms grace us in touch,

In randomness, or poor weather shrouded;

But your forever summer must not die,

Nor lose ownership of the rain you bring,

Nor must Death boast you are caught in her sty,

When in eternity to Time you sing.

So long as humans thrive, or eyes read through,

So long as this poem lives, so, too, will you.

Shall I compare you to a winter's night?

You are more frigid and more pitiless. 

Blizzards slam into towns with all their spite,

And winter's an eternal barrenness.

At times will Jack Frost's magic flare up wild,

And oft will dregs of silver bleach the earth;

And every man and beast touched be defiled,

Claimed victims of the season new in birth. 

But your sour aura always will prevail,

Nor can your visage ever hope to smooth,

Nor for you shall e'en death desire to hail,

When I have made known to the world this truth.

            In only parting with life shall I cease,

            And only then will you and I find peace.

You sashay along on hot sand in red bikini,

outshining summer, you’re so fine, you’re so fine.

Your ass is amazing, as sweet as your breasts,

you shake it, don’t break it, you’re so fine.

Slow down, let me cool the heat of your summer,

so hot, you sizzle more torridly than heaven’s orbs.

Don’t throw wet blanket, I’m burning, you’re so fine.

Want you before ardor declines and you’re not so fine.

At the end of the summer, I’ll have used you up,

my wand will be exhausted and unable to function.

It’s just a summer fling and I’m wilted and tired.

Find someone else who will think you’re so fine.

If I should measure summer’s joy beside you,

No hint of allure could ever shine through.

For the bright blooms of May never make it to June,

And the summertide vacay is gone far too soon.

The sun often swelters and leaves one fatigued;

Then its sparkle is lost to threatening winter’s cruel greed.

Summer, like all good things, comes to an end

For nature, like time, is no one’s true friend.

But fear not; give no thought to infinity--

It can’t taint a heart that brims so with beauty.

And death, though it be dark and unending,

Has no power o’er my words, ever true and transcending

All time. As long as a man can draw breath to his lungs,

Your story, though told, shall never be done.

#Shakespeare #sonnets #summerday #poetry #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit

Melinda was born in May

All who came brought a gift

Even I, came on the fifth

with the shoulder of a manta ray

It was such a lovely day

Paparazzi, even in the lift

Pranksters shuffling their cards, so swift

Caught unaware, no words to say

Suddenly, silence ceased the room

Its like an angel descended from above

My haughty shoulder became a broom

Pranksters cards gradually dissolve

Photographers frustrated, camera's couldn't zoom

I had no gift to offer, nothing, but love.

Could I say you are like mid-day some time after spring?

You're the summer when the sun is out, but are hotter still to me.

A beauty truly flourishing, and twice as nice as a sweet young thing should be!

You're ravishing nature is prevalent, yet its permanence won’t ring to infinite so easily.

Ultimately each beauteous thing will find age’s absence when this green beauty turns to brown.

So I think I'll preempt the crashing fade out now, and jot this down.

The lovely shine that is you, before it folds into times destruction of what used to only be called "now".

The truth is that you cannot stretch summer beyond the brow of it’s longest doggy-days, nor pull it past the chill of fall, or into winters grays. While even summer still leaves sunburns and has no permanence at all, you bring peace to the eye and in the mind inspire thoughts of all the strong pursuits of longevity through the use of rhapsody, to which my heart now falls.

You are a hottie with a body, hot enough to sound like stolen property, but this temporary visionary treat has only one real fate, and that is its retreat.

Yet, for but a moment, I'd swear the hands of time are abstinent from their glare on you. Their corrosive course on your fairness, is a natural force who, without too much care for suggestions in direction, should only be denied it’s rancor through my pens celebration of the skin you're within, with which is imbued a shine of the kind that needs to be mine and from it my words bloom.

Sweetly you are the exception sweetie, as here with my words I’ll paint your beauty to this page.

Death wouldn’t have a chance for erasing this. These, my turns in phrase; my praise.

Where time leaves wrinkled lines along it’s path down a face, you by this truth written, seem to last past the grave, almost untouched by any ill fate.

A great truth, the proof of the scrawling on this paper stage. Without refute this fact reiterates in our day by day; that as we live, breath, think, and read there will not come a day that your blooming esthetic will let me forget it, nor will it be lost for posterities sake! Your beauty, my keepsake.

-A modernized paraphrase of William Shakespeare's 'Sonnet 18' by Stori-

Shall I compare thee to Disney Princess? 

Your every wish is my command;

You're fiery red, a siren, a innocent temptress,

Loving the water as well as the land.

You're smart and brave, always stuck in a book,

Yet you captured my heart and tamed a beast,

As you were somehow able to see past my looks

While we danced under the fading stars as the sun rose in the east.

A fighter, a warrior with a will of steel, 

You're my comrade in the face of an invading army

With enough power and might to make an emperor kneel

That I have your love makes me more than just a tad smarmy. 

Since you're my princess, I hope I'm fit to be your knight

I can't let it go, but someday you'll be walking toward me in white. 

You are but a multitude of ray?

Shining brighter than bright.

Your golden locks shiver through May,

Shortness of time, is a mean sight:

Too hot, too hot, too very hot,

And sometimes cold;

Fading, transfixed in a pot,

Nature it is too bold;

Complete, never to fade

Your beauty 'twill decline;

Death never yours to parade,

Blooded ink renders divine:

Once your facilities and senses sway,

You will forever be a Dorian Gray.

Shall I rival you to the moon?

You are more alluring and more sober: clashing tides arouse the placid shore,

And this orb of night doesn't last long enough.

Once in a blue moon the cimmerian shade is too numbing, and it's shivery embrace is thawed, by moonshine.

All dark things eventually become less magical, either by earthbound experiences or by nirvana.

But your deathless alchemy, won't melt away, or wane.

As you will, reverie on, in my everlasting poetry.

As long as there are people still alive to read poems, this sonnet will emit light and you will flicker in it.

Shall I compare you to Musical.ly stars?

Your profile says "i only live once, girl".

Because haters gonna hate even us,

Like, summer's expiration date's over.

I lost my sunglasses, it burns real hot,

Even my tan is not fake now; you ask

Where's my beach body in such trying times,

Well I had a cupcake or two (or twelve);

But look at you, having those curves just fine,

Not skinny, losing no pounds, just 'follow's,

Because you don't need filters for likes,

Created wonderful as are, God knows.

   So long your mirror is not distorted,

   So long you break those ceilings, you're OK.