My mistress' eyes are nothing like AN EXPLOSION
EXPLOSIONS ARE far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are NOT EXPLOSIONS BUT STILL PRETTY GREAT
If hairs be DYNAMITE wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, WHAT DOES DAMASK’D MEAN
But no such EXPLOSIONS see I in her cheeks;
And in some EXPLOSIVES is there more delight
Than in the EXPLOSIONS that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her EXPLODE, yet well I know
That EXPLOSIONS hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a EXPLOSION go;
My mistress, when she walks, EXPLODES on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false EXPLOSIONS