#elizabethbarrettbrowning
What is love?
Is it Barrett-Browning's sonnets?
Shakespeare's soliloquy's?
Can love, true love, ever be truly represented in written form?
What is love?
Do you feel what I feel?
Is love the same emotion for us?
We'll never know.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
...past my waist as her-- "to my foot's glee--"
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDVIII)
I wanted coffee, with auld sonnets thence
As erst wont, Missus Browning's sweet detail
From lo, "the Portuguese," as I sipped stale
Last ounces from four nights 'go like's good sense,
With mair than I'd known ere for all intents,
And laden praps as Roscoe was't? thought, frail
Erm, as my seeing more clearly to avail
Just how much we've in common is't? from hence.
One friend some years back said I'd be as her--
Was't cuz I begged for romance? or through
These diary pages shewed I had as twere
That lonely life Miss Barrett ere me knew?
Where now, since losing Mum I feel in poor
'Scuse kinship like my friend claimed, sold to YOU?
09Nov18d
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC