BDSM & Alternative Lifestyle Personals
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Sonnet 130
11/27/2006 12:15 am Last Read: |
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red, than her lips red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go, My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare, As any she belied with false compare. I've always found this to be the most romantic of the Shakespere sonnets. I was probably 8 the first time I read it. The idea of being loved for who and what you are rang true for me and probably had a hand in my development as a Domme. While my friends were busy worrying how to shape their behaviour to attract the males, I had the opinion that any male worth having would like me for who I was. I refused to change for anyone. Strangely enough, while many of my friends had trouble attracting and keeping guys, I always had men seeking my company. Since I come from a long line of strong women- a great grandmother who left Poland in a hay wagon, one grandmother who raised three boys despite an alcoholic husband, a mother who was not only left to care for her two sisters at a very young age due to her mother being unable to cope with the death of her husband but also dealt with the murder of that mother also at a young age - I was always encouraged to be strong within myself. I was told I didn't need a man to complete me. And I don't. *smiles* I don't "need" my husband; I want him. I know him, his foibles and his flaws and love him for who and what he is. While his face and body are attractive, he could be transplanted into someone hideously deformed and I'd still love him the same. *smiles* I wish all of you a love of this magnitude. |
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