A Shakespearean Tragedy

“Shall I compare thee to a summer day?”(Sonnet 18)

You look hot, and will become hotter,

With the sun ascending on the clear sky,

In the scorching season of summer,

And your temper will be rising on the sly;

When you passed through the corridors

Of my house, I felt the whiff of air fresh,

Knocking at the doors of my parched soul,

And stroking my cheeks with a soft brush;

In the afternoon, you will enjoy siesta,

Like the sun resting on the green treetop;

The evening is the time of food fiesta,

And you will be on your toes,non-stop;

Wrapped in the graceful saree,orangish-red,

Like the sun, you will drown in the family sea.