Today (Nov 28th) is my 16th Wedding Anniversary. Whilst on holiday in England in 2005 we visited Shakespeare’s Home and Anne Hathaway’s Cottage in Stratford Upon Avon and learnt that we share our wedding anniversary with William and Anne. It is fitting then that I cite a sonnet in honour of our special day. One of my favourites is #130. A depiction of real love not enamoured by blind lust or fantasy but genuine, lasting, unconditional, sacrificial commitment. i.e. the sort of love with which you happily and satisfyingly grow old together.
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.
HT: William Shakespeare 
