Shakespeare sonnets

Sonnet I

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

-William Shakespeare

Art, Dada & Me 200216

Streams of consciousness

Take me on a journey,
Where would you like to go, honey?😊

© Lara Rose 2016

Oh Africa

The African mind
The African collective
Oh Africa,
Why do you walk with bowed head,
Shame, what shame,
Fear, oh fear,
You need not be frightened,
You need not be ashamed,
Stand, walk tall, proud,
Oh Africa!
– Lara Rose, Nov 2012