He had such quiet eyes
She did not realise
They were two pools of lies
Layered with thinnest ice
To her, those quiet eyes
Were breathing desolate sighs
Imploring her to be nice
And to render him paradise
If only she'd been wise
And had listened to the advice
Never to compromise
With pleasure-seeking guys
She'd be free from "the hows and whys"
Now here's a bit of advice
Be sure that nice really means nice
Then you'll never be losing at dice
Though you may lose your heart once or twice
By: Bibsy Soenharjo
Sonnet 18
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 dimm'd
And every fair from fair sometimes declines
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd
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 enternal 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.
No comments:
Post a Comment