Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
That would be silly, as ‘tis Autumn late:
Rough kids do shake these darling buds as may,
Yet shall they steadfastly survive their fate;
Sometimes too bright the colours here may shine,
And oft’ the pink would seem to be obscured,
And ears may downward droopingly decline
Unless with pins position is assured:
But thy eternal Easter shall not fade
Nor be forgotten in the times that follow,
For pix shall show what with such care was made,
Which beat all other mothers’ efforts hollow:
So long as mem’ry sticks can still be read
So long lives thee, though digit’ly instead.
(With really awfully humble apologies to Mr W. Shakespeare.)
© April 2011 Colonialist (Letterdash/WordPress)