A Greeting

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

-- William Shakespeare

I am still working on setting up the look and feel of this weblog. (Side note: I really do hate the word "blog"; it sounds to me like somebody vomited all over the place). For right now this is just a repository for links to my favorite hot writers and other interesting erotic sites.

I will have actual, real content here whenever I'm satisfied enough with the layout to receive visitors.
-- PB