This sonnet might be the funniest love poem I've ever read. Who else but W.S. could get away with a line like the one that ends with "reeks"?
Sonnet 130William Shakespeare
My mistress's 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 damask'd, red and white,But no such roses see I in her cheeks,And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks.I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat 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 rareAs any she belied with false compare.
Dinner tonight: tomato soup, with either basil and cream or onion and cilantro salsa; popovers; spinach and apple salad