...But He Wasn't a Bro All the Time...

Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb,

Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand,

Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web,

And snared by the ungloving of thy hand.

And yet I never look on midnight sky,

But I behold thine eyes' well-memoried light;

I cannot look upon the rose's dye,

But to thy cheek my soul doth take its flight;

I cannot look on any budding flower,

But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips,

And hearkening for a love-sound, doth devour

Its sweets in the wrong sense: -Thou dost eclipse

Every delight with sweet remembering,

And grief unto my darling joys dost bring.

Okay, so...I've been reading Keats lately. It's because I saw the film Bright Star last week and it inspired me to bust out some verse.

Yes, I just wrote "bust out some verse." So? I never said I was poetic...but I will say that this poem makes my heart feel like a melting ice cream cone. I wish I could see how this woman took her glove off! (Like, just her glove though...I don't know if Keats was referring to a little more than that. Am I still talking?)

If you enjoy anything smart, lovely, or English, you will like the film. See it!