Sonnet 130 with a HGMM twist.
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
She Glides into the room, flicking her wand in the direction of the board,Her strong scottish accent like a knife to my heart, every word a stab plunging deaper.
If snow be white, why then are her breast dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I dreamt of her hair last night. Its black locks gracing my pillow.And yet it is only ever seen in its 'bun of doom'. The glorious waves locked away not for our eyes to see.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
Her flawless skin seems to clash against those infamous robes which suffocate her body. Her eyes peer into my soul with every glance. Looking through me and at me in a moment past.
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
As she sweeps past me her scent seems to harass my sences causing every fibre of my being to stand on end while also putting them at ease.Awake and yet asleep
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
Her strong scottish accent soundtracks my dreams.Her sharp fast tongue can cut through ice. With its cold roar yet love lies beneath
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
With her brisk step and never ending legs. She walks into a room and demands respect.
Her arms are so safe that no one can deny to be held by her would be a glorious affair
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Well what can I say. Shakey got it right, although she is not a godess by sight,Her green eyes can turn my world upside down and her smile can always stop my frown. I am forever in love and I know it wont stop .So to you i leave my heart in a box.Hold it close and keep it safe for I soon will return to be by your side.