My Bae’s Eyes are Nothing like the Sun – A Poem

Well, this was fun.

Marcellus Laroon the Younger was trained in painting by his father, Marcellus Laroon the Elder, a portraitist and history painter. Apparently, the Younger, who specialised in genre scenes and conversation pieces, was “a colourful character who in his long and strenuous life was a musician, singer, soldier, and man of pleasure (p45)”. Man of pleasure? 🧐

Eagle eyes may have already spotted that there’s a Shakespearean sonnet entitled, My Mistress’ Eyes are Nothing like the Sun. My poem is more sonnet-adjacent. More of my poetry here.

My Bae’s Eyes are Nothing like the Sun

My bae 🙃 returned to me from Scarb’rough Bay.
He told me spas were good for his physique 🙄
That sand and sea for just about a week
would cure the limp he felt in his fillet 🌭
And I, of course, said, “Hey, ‘it’ might decay
if unattended it lay limp and meek
as chicken raw or beef in soup. Oblique.”
And lo, Bae brought back stockings sheer. Risqué.
So, yay? 😠 F*boy now drinks the wine he thinks
will charm the very silk from breasts and arms
his servant knows are sleek as Bae’s limp beef.
(I oop!) Rosé my lips, my cheeks, my dress.
I slay. Fair fire 🔥 Bae never did forethink
to read the room. Ignore not fire! Yaaas queen 👑

©elsp2026

For an actual beef recipe, you might prefer some stroganoff, or a red wine onion stew?