The Blazon-a poem describing the Beloved or a beloved. I feel they did a nice job with this one

English Renaissance Lyrics

When Elizabethan poets, most of them male, took up the subject of love, they drew on poetic and metaphoric conventions developed by Italian poets of the fourteenth-century such as Petrarch and Dante. Among those conventions were the Petrarchan conceit or comparision that described the contrary feelings of the lover (as Sir Philip Sidney put it in his Sonnet 6, "living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires") and the blazon, the description of the beloved cataloguing her fair parts by comparison usually to something from nature. The metaphoric material for the blazon, that is, the things to which the beloved female's body were compared, came from a stock of images in the Song of Songs (or Solomon), a biblical collection of love poems. While some of these images fell out of use (e.g., "Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them is bereaved"), many of them are still current in poetry today and were overused to the point of nausea in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

I took this bit from the web page Renaissance Lyrics.

Shakespeare used the blazon form in the following Sonnet #130

SONNET 130

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 damask'd, 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.

I asked the seminar to look at the form like a list type poem. Here are the results.

Nicole Yang Her Her tail is the rhythmic ribbon used by the dancer passionately twirling her wand in the performance hall Her rump the soft stack of hay sitting in the sunlight content in its place Her stomach is the surface of clouds wisps floating atop the cushion below Her heart the erratic flapping of tiny hummingbird wings never at rest Her fur is the busy playground thoroughly enjoyed by small children playing hide and seek Her ears small curtains ruffled by the wind through which wonders exist Her tongue is the brush of the inspired artist moments from completing her work Her nose the favorite leather jacket Worn down by constant use brushing against the surroundings And Her eyes two small, shining telescopes seeing deeply into the Undiscovered Unrevealed Unknown Crevices Of myself Gregory Tam Wonderland My right arm is comfortably around her cozy waist and back, We sit quietly on a wooden bench, Her chest oscillating forward and backward calmly as she breathes, So quiet, body and mind are at ease. Her silky and loose hair takes flight as the wind blows, She turns to me and her vibrant blue eyes meet mine, I am suddenly stuck in a daze, staring off into the space of her eyes. I notice her eyebrows rise majestically, like wings. Combined with a slight grin offset to the right. A peach like pink forms on her soft cheeks. Something catches her eye and she turns, revealing a star on her ears. A black and white portrait, but her earring shines, blinding me. For a split second, all I see is a bright light as if it was my time to go. As my eyes refocus, her image reappears. She turns back to me, as my eyes quickly glance at her shoulders. Her shoulders broad and proud like a lioness but still vulnerable. Slowly, her head falls on my chest, as a leaf would fall onto the ground. Her physical presence freezes my world, hours seem to pass by. All of the sudden I feel an angel-like touch on my hand. Her hand so soft and warm, I vow to never let go. Our fingers seem to venture on each others’ hands, Gradually exploring the plains of skin and edges of nails. My free hand reaches over to lie on her thigh. Her skin tight jeans create a rough, yet firm and satisfying feeling. She turns away again and once again her earring blinds me. My vision returns and this time we are alone in a fantasy wonderland. I look at my unreal surroundings and wonder if I am in heaven. The People’s God Nancy Pulciano Your form, a redwood, raised above others, sturdy and bold, deep rooted and grounded, aesthetically pleasing. wisdom in every branch, your limbs Godly in knowledge. Your hair, not an essential, but even more sweet. a chocolaty morsel, A topping to top off a desert, a treat. Your Eyes, tree bark emitting an array of browns embedded with character rugged with tuition winter came and once again reborn, your eyes a smoothness so divine Your nose, a masterpiece, Renaissance sculpted. Michelangelo's best. Da Vinci was prying. jealousy driven. Greater than marble, so proud with stoutness. Your smile, the clouds. as soft and as white full of life, waiting to reveal a gift from the heavens more precious than pearls. Your lips, hands, they take on a life of their own. Your shoulders, Atlas, bearing the weights of the world with a wrath of grace. Your back, a butterfly, moving with ease. Your arms, natures design a python's coil I the prey, victim to your squeeze breathless from great power nothing more natural Your hands, my favorite part. the people’s God. Your abdomen, a mountain range, years of work, crafted and deep, hard to the touch but soft to the eye. Your legs, those of a Spartan, bred as the best. carrying you far, they don’t define weak. but when they touch mine, I the newborn calf stumble meek. Your toes, bubbles from the depths, perfect in form, nothing as symmetric. Your skin, yellows and browns, caramelized, perfection, down to appearance, a taste even more honeyed. Your scent, better than the finest, a gem so rare, bitter and sweet, far from generic, no other can compare. Your voice, the light, so crisp and so clear, the end of the tunnel. the potentials of the wind soft and harsh. the caress of a mother the sternness of a father a distressed child. the sounds of a lover raw and arousing fearful and fearless. my little yellow bird. You as a whole, water, natures most dangerous force, gentle and calming. peaceful and wild. an anger kept at bay. comforting and soothing, relaxing, and relieving . so pure and so cleansing so still and so patient. the key to life. Errin Hadnot The Anatomy of a Beautiful Being Her mind, filled with wisdom knowledge of power subliminal of intellect gives insight of life dreaming to escape her thoughts of unhappiness swamped in waves of stress burdening the potential to express feelings, untouched, unclear, unbearable, A cloud floating in thin air simply moving to new heights Her body, big brown eyes glistening through bold lashes A button nose senses the juicy and couture aroma lips of a perfect pout natural mocha skin arms and legs of gazelles' length walking tall A presence of maturity rhythm flowing through her veins, grooving to the beat which strums her autobiography Her soul, genuine, a diamond in the rough shimmering among the sky lights heart of fierce passion breathing sapphire treasures of illuminating confidence. Worrying about the future, before the present. An engine, hard-working, forever an impulse of her mind, body, and soul. Beating Heart Salena Huang Glistening crystals can hardly capture his eyes Simply replaying history through a filmstrip And gentle waves crashing effortlessly On a hot summer day Luscious red-velvet define his thick lips With the sweetness of cotton candy Melting in your tongue A sculpted piece of art fits in any pair of Levis A gracefully gliding ballerina Floating lightly A falling feather from the Milky Way The decadent dessert I have been craving Is illuminated through his scent The summer breeze against my face Fresh and relaxing Rough sandpaper Colliding against each other Able to smooth every sharp edge With only his hands A firm shield during war Ready to protect allies The fearless sacrifice of his body The powerful roller coasters At the amusement park Curved and bumpy Are his arms Softness of a newborn baby Laying at a warm beach His skin lingers through my fingertips The melody playing in the background In a song put on repeat Is simply his breathtaking voice A bear in the winter Preparing for hibernation Grabs his warmth His heart, Holds the world Are the stars in the sky Are the pedals to every rose Are the candles under the moonlight Is the key to my heart The Spiders Nest Dillon shaw Your hair is a spider's nest entangling me and threatening to burn me with its fiery red heat as you once burned for me Your eyes are a tranquil kelp forest inside a raging ocean trapped in the crater of an insurmountable mountain displaying everything without revealing a thing As your serpent tongue imperceptibly juggles illusion and truth and intermingles the forbidden with venomous lust Your face is so pale like moonlight strategically freckled with craters creating imperfect perfection the quintessence of uncaring beauty Your supple neck is a bee hive so sensitive so sweet so tempting so dangerous Your voice is the honey infused with sweet nectar one cannot grasp it without threat of being stung Your laughter shakes mountains crumbling under the weight of joy your tears flood the world cleansing mankind of defenses Your arms are coiled serpents wrapping around so pleasantly and never letting go of anything that still lives Your hand is the warm touch of the sun caressing and sustaining those beneath it burning those who get too close and blinding those who cannot turn away Your legs are the gentle movements of a ray elegant beyond comprehension a dance with nature itself unfit for the lowly eyes of man Your feet are the most precious pearls found in so unlikely a place it is difficult to believe they are really there Your touch is food and water sustenance itself without which life cannot thrive and is left in shriveling wastelands Your smile is the beauty of the stars awesome fleeting unforgettable Your body is a meticulously trimmed rosebush testament to sacrifice you've selflessly made for yourself ensuring that your image is unscarred by the past you've so easily forgotten Fluent Love Zeeniya Yahiya Dearly beloved, They say I should describe you Use words, mere words Insufficient words, inexpressible meaning When I can’t even comprehend The language my heart speaks For you, about you, when it needs you, when it’s without you Your eyes, those deep, dark pools Water that could melt the sun Your smile, like the soft stroke of a brush Painting my darkest of nights with just A touch of a star light and hope So reliable, so dependable, your smile So innocent, so full of life Remember the hot summer day? When you smiled at me No, it meant nothing, changed nothing Remember the cold winter day? When the sun was adamant And you took over its daily job Oh darling, I fell hard and I fell head over heels The kindness of your heart And the love you show the world The smiles you bring, the laughter you reward How tall, dark, perfect and handsome you are Your fingers in perfect harmony with mine As we shook hands that day Foretelling a story that has yet to happen For beloved, sweet beloved You are still to be mine. Indian Boy Allison Ferrini you're sensuous, a languishing jungle cat long dreamy lashes curled like jazz sleepy beautiful eyes wide mouth slow easy summer smile fremescent landslide of warm curry laughter teeth so sharp, pearl needles against your dusk skin beetle collarbones, heron wrists your hazy clothes peel off your body like the bark of a eucalyptus tree, are you as easy to undress? your hands are like slipping into a drowsy green current smooth honey skin you are a hushed dusty palace near a clear cooing fountain cool tile floors a crowded festival red, saffron, jasmine, pistachio, plum your breath is musk, earth, and monumental roses your hair a black swans ruffled wing i think you're beautiful picture my faded body next to yours my pale hands twined with your long stained fingers I want to put my nose behind your coiled ear trace your geometry with my tongue you'll hold me like a nighttime car ride sing me old songs while I sleep we'll hibernate together holed up like rats in your tapestried bedroom my indefectible Indian prince, my love Zeenia uodated her Blazon. Here is the result. Dearly beloved, Zeeniya Yahiya Sun on the horizon, Stars at night The deep, calm sea Full of love, full of life I see you. Your eyes, those deep, dark pools Water that could melt the sun Your smile, like the soft stroke of a brush Painting my darkest of nights with just A touch of a star light and hope So reliable, so dependable, your smile So innocent, so full of life Your shoulders, tall mountains Envelop me like the sun Made for me to lean on Your arms reaching out Warm, tender, caressing The kindness of your heart And the love you show the world The smiles you bring, the laughter you reward Your fingers in perfect harmony with mine As we shook hands that day Foretelling a story that has yet to happen For beloved, sweet beloved You are still to be mine.