Friday, March 13, 2009

Poetry Slam Friday; Part the Whatever.

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle:

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold:

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

I recited the first four stanzas of this as part of our wedding vows.

This was considered highly romantic and thus a “good thing” by all the chicks.

A less literate friend of my wife asked me “how long did it take to write such a wonderful poem?”


wari lasi said...

Love doesn't rhyme with prove.

But that's a very romantic story about your wedding Ramon. Much better than last Friday's macabre offering.

Aesophia said...

Agreed Wari, I was beginning to think the lovely Ramon only had depressing, macabre and depressingly macabre sections in his poetry collection. And awwww, would you look at that, there is a romantic in there after all :)

Can we go for something comedic next Friday, I've got a copy of Unreal Banana Peel around here somewhere I'm sure, if you get stuck.

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Well, I had planned some Marxist poetry for next Friday but I supposed I could slip in something comic.

wari lasi said...

Marxist poetry would be comedic, wouldn't it?

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Well there's "Rick, the People's Poet".

He's got a tee-shirt of Trotsky.

squib said...

Oh that's so sweet!

We had one of Neruda's poems on our wedding invitations

This is a port.
Here I love you.

Melba said...

That's beautiful. I wrote it out for my sis and bro-in-law at their engagement.

It doesn't matter, wari, that love and prove don't rhyme.

In fact it's better.

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

It's much more appropriate than my first thought, a verse of "Nazi Punks, fuck off" by The Dead Kennedies

Anonymous said...

Love doesn't rhyme with prove.

It does if you're a Kiwi. Or from Adelaide. But not both at the same time.

I can just see the wedding preparations now...

Ramon: You want me to recite what? Learn it "off by heart"? When I'm half drunk and hungover from the night before? Can't I just recite a dirty limerick instead?

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Actually Boogey, the poem was my idea.