William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18

I have to include a bit of Shakespeare - the absolute master of poetry and storytelling.

I think so many people have been turned off Shakespeare, possibly while studying his plays at school, because the subject has been badly taught. Some people like to show off and make others feel intellectually inferior, quoting passages and acting like they're really clever... But here's the thing: Shakespeare wrote his plays for everyone, and that's part of his incredible skill. To be able to write something with such depth that it can be enjoyed by people from all classes in society, all levels of intelligence and from all ages in time, is so awesome.

You don't have to understand all the clever stuff to appreciate the story, but if you delve in and start to analyse it all, it is extraordinary. If I was teaching Shakespeare, I would absolutely strive to get people to appreciate it at a level they feel comfortable with. I remember the boys at the back of the class messing about and disrupting the lesson - they could have perhaps been given something physical to do - make the props; devise the battle scene; direct... but I'm not a school teacher, and I know it's a difficult job.

Anyway, not a play, here's Sonnet 18 - I love it - loads of people do, even the ones like me who don't know many, if any, others! It's one of the best-known, and most-loved. Deliciously rich imagery, and deep, deep themes - it's a timeless tribute to the enduring nature of beauty, and poetry.

Shakespeare begins by wondering whether to compare his beloved to a summer’s day, but then quickly concludes that the beloved is superior: while summer is transient and subject to imperfections, the beloved’s beauty is eternal and unfading.

Eternity is achieved through the poem itself, which will preserve the beloved’s beauty for as long as it is read. What a beautiful idea... It's an incredible expression of love, and the power of art to transcend time:

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.