A tribute to Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s 43rd sonnet written in iambic pentameter.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee as sunrays and fell moonbeams—
Grace the earth with such practiced bravado,
And fill the seams, of which great love portrays.

I love thee as my will to wander far—
Grows boundless, and pierces the very stars.
I love thee patiently, as our world turns.
I love thee kindly, as it fails to learn.

I love thee with a love almost unfound.
Into a rendezvous etched in my heart;
Prancing on a knot untied, safe and sound,
With strings that bind, never to fall apart.

I love thee ‘til skies are torn asunder—
Towards the crucible of day’s depart,
Overthrew by our love’s endless candor.
I love thee in warm joy once lost to life,
And left to die—Thus, if God should gather,
I shall ever love thee better in strife.