Shall I compare thee to a Brewer’s Dray? Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a brewer’s dray?

Thou art not the sort to take that too well;

So, upon your face I shall not now dwell,

And be careful here what I deign to say,

Or shall not see the darling buds of May.

	Lokesh Umak on We counted them out
	Lokesh Umak on We counted them out
	Words from a Lentil… on We counted them out
	Lokesh Umak on We counted them out
	Words from a Lentil… on Down the Looe!