#sonnets of beauty

[not-so-rosyyy]

no idea if it's my hormones, what I've seen in the news lately, the weight of living the past few years, or just because it's Judi Dench...but this impromptu performance really made me cry for a good ten minutes, no kidding.

[ithurtswhennn]

Ewa Sonnet

[celebpicss]

Ewa Sonnet

[pigeonwit]

Tipsy Davey is a lovely Davey, easy to blush and fluster – it doesn’t take much more than a smile to send him giggling into his glass, and it drives Jack’s own ego to dangerous heights. He could spend whole nights murmuring compliments in Davey’s ear, tracing his knuckle against Davey’s thigh, listening to him giggle against Jack’s own temple, feebly nudging him away (and letting him come right back) and mumbling "Jackie, stop…" without meaning a word of it.

And then there’s Drunk Davey, when his flush settles high on his cheeks and his bashfulness settles with it. He loses that nervousness he keeps underneath his skin that’s always pulling him back just a little, telling him not to come on too strong. He touches freely, whispers the pads of his fingertips over Jack’s wrists enough to drive him insane, sweeps over the bridge of Jack’s freckled nose and murmurs, “Glory be to God for dappled things…”. The bitter little middle-schooler that still lives in Jack’s mind has always thought that poetry was something just too dorky to be attractive, but that bitter little middle-schooler sure shuts the hell up when Davey whispers pretty things in Jack’s ear on a dark corner of the dance floor. Jack’s not complaining at all.

And then there’s Jack’s favourite – Truly Shitfaced Davey. He’s a rare gift, reserved only for New Years, birthdays and Halloween parties, if his costume is slutty enough. Jack can recount every single Truly Shitfaced Davey encounter he’s ever had, and while they’re nowhere near as suave as Drunk Davey, they are by all means his favourites.

“Face,” Davey mumbles, poking Jack’s cheek and marvelling at the squish of it. Jack has to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Yeah, babe?” He asks sweetly, because he is a wonderful boyfriend, thank you very much.

“Your face… It – you…” Davey’s face pinches as he tries to find his words underneath the drunk haze that’s blanketing his brain. He promptly gives up and groans, waving an arm dismissively as he burrows into Jack’s side. “S’good.”

Jack grins, pressing a kiss to the curls tickling his face. He gives up on trying to stifle his smile – Davey’s too drunk to care, and far too drunk to notice the way he’s staring inquisitvely at Jack’s lips the way he usually stares at a good book.

“Thanks, Davey-mine. Your face is good, too.”

Davey stares at him for a moment, mouth squared and silent for a little too long, until he makes a strangled little squeak and ducks his face into Jack’s neck.

“Shuddup!” He orders as Jack laughs, but he can’t help it. As much as he loves Davey when he’s reciting sonnets from memory, he especially loves him speechless, if only for the novelty of it.

[ultramarine-spirit]

Pretty banners...

[mlobsters]

(captions on op tiktok)

[thebeautifulbook]

SONNETS & POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS . Art binding by Bayntun-Riviere.

[silentaddict]

Ewa Sonnet

[sithaari]

not sure how much of a hot take this is, but even if padme joined anakin in the dark side, they'd still be just as saccharine and just as ridiculously, unapologetically in love. only now, anakin would bring the heads of padme's enemies to her like a cat bringing a dead bird home to its human.

[blmpff]

To be honest... I know well. I know whom I love and who I am... But... But I am so afraid.

Sonnet 18 (2019)

[all-kinds-of-beauties]

Photographer: Matthieu Sonnet https://www.instagram.com/matthieusonnet2/ Model: Tezz

[life-with-ellie]

I hope, like me, you have enjoyed re-reading this blog. As we have now reached its sunset, I leave you with Shakespeare's advice on why letting go is so important.

Sonnet 71

No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.

O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay; Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone.

. —William Shakespeare

[knotdeerselfships]

sir please please my hand in marriage PLEASE!!!!!

[silentaddict]

Ewa Sonnet

[living-dead-girl515]

There's something so uniquely beautiful,

About missing him like this,

The way my soul yearns, for just one kiss

It leaves me knowing, reuniting is blissful

[britneyshakespeare]

Much Ado About Nothing, II.i