Seven Poems for Seven Days

Recently, the scholastic stars have aligned and this little thing called “free-time” slipped graciously, but still modestly, back into my life. In light of this, I have decided to post my seven favorite poems over the next seven days – for you and I to revel in our daily dose of poetry. This first pick holds a dear place in my heart, and rightly so. I have held it near and safe in my memory, only to be vocalized on the most fitting occasions, for seven years now. I now want to share its timeless insights tonight:

Sonnet 116

By:William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

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