...and the rough winds which were shaking the darling buds of April...
and so, as we're into everything Shakespearian at the moment, maybe it's time for a parody of one of the Bard's sonnets.
Here's the most famous:
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
So, what shall we compare you to? A pot of tea? A book of verse? A vase of flowers? A racing car? Depends on the recipient, of course.
I'll have a think about both the recipient and the comparison.