A Sonnet by Any Other Name

A Sonnet by Any Other Name

Eyes like lips, lips like hair,
To who shall you I false compare?
Skin like chin, chin like nose,
Red and ruby as a rose.

Voice as husky as the wind,
Sweet and deep as Rosalind,
Words of silken milk and honey,
Flow so smooth, flow so runny.

A swarm of dimples round the cleft,
A flock of pimples blocked out deft.
Freckles pricked by mum’s own pin,
A drop of Scotch that runs within.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day,
Made glorious winter by this stiff verse?
Or to twice hot Venus on a clam,
With heaving chest as pink as ham?

To compare would not be true:
They are them, and thee are you.

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