How do I thank thee, let me count the ways.

Your words are the heart of hearts.

Never to send Shakespeare packing.

For goodness sake as he breathed his last breathe.

Love is always blind with matters of the heart.

We never slept one wink.

For some words are not for the faint of heart.

Thou hasn’t fought fire with fire.

For the naked truth always slays the dragon.

So out of the jaws of death.

Lie low with your heart of gold.

Waiting with baited breath, as your green eyed monster appears.

Proclaiming too much of a good thing, should be good riddance.

Nevertheless, come what may.

For what is done is done.

Your words are never a sorry sight.

This brave new world has come full circle.

Since there is no fair nor foul play.

Writers wear their hearts on their sleeves.

They only write the naked truth.

Never knowing when the word game is up.

Always on a wild word goose chase.

As the feathered quill vanished into thin air.

© Mary Anne Abdo

A belated Happy Birthday to William Shakespeare.