I could write a thousand poems
And yet none would compare to you.
You’re a sweet drop of summer dew
After the springs reign was stolen.
So then, why should I even try?
I could tell them of your red hair;
Your luscious lips; your lovely stare,
But such a rhyme would seem so dry.
How on Earth could I compare thee
To such a simple summer’s day,
When all of night’s stars cannot say
What this beauty is before me?
Though perhaps I say’t not for them—
Whose gossiping ears tend to pry.
Perhaps it’s ‘cause no other guy
Has seen you sparkle like a gem.
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