Shakespeare Poetry

Shakespeare Poetry


Shannon Sutton

If music be the food of love, play on 

there's method in my madness. 

Such stuff as dreams are made on? 

To be or not to be, that is the question. 

A hot blooded night owl 

and a green eyed monster 

too much of a good thing? 

A wild goose chase. 

As luck would have it 

the course of true love 

never did run smooth when 

ye wear your heart on your sleeve. 

A foregone conclusion 

Shakespeare would say. 

Neither here nor there, 

we have seen better days.