Get Thee to a Nunnery!

My Lord, how mine eyelids
do flutter at the curl of thy sly little mouth,
Such a beautiful ornament whose slightest part
bids me welcome without your knowing.
How my heart does race
at thine eyes’ sideward darting
And I long to embrace
thee upon each our parting
Jest you not, when you say Love is cruel--
Jest I not, declaring what a fool
I have been! to love at first sight
and to whisper thy name as a prayer each night.
Canst we never one morrow be ours
and open our hearts at last as flow’rs?
Break you, heart, still you, breath
until true love finds thee or until day of death.

New Haircut Gives Rise to an Hour in Front of the Camera