Anyway, the director has asked for *bad* love poems to post in the lobby for the audience to read during intermission.
There are 2 front row seats riding on how bad this one is. :)
Feel free to jump in with your own bad love poetry. Doesn't need to be a sonnet.
There is no one I think is quite as fair
as Rosalind, the nymph with golden hair
or is it dark as raven's wings? It seems
I can't recall. Her eyes, they haunt my dreams.
Nothing like a zombie from the grave,
that would only petrify our love.
Rosalind is livelier than spring.
She does not compare to anything.
I spoke to her that once and now I'm sure
she is the only one I will adore--
those other girls I've loved mean nothing now
next to my Rosalind they look like cows.
These honest messages I hope will please
and so I post them to these humble trees.