Spoiler
This is my first and last attempt at poetry-it just sort of popped into my head. I've read it over so many times I can't tell whether it's good or not. So, do what you want with it!
Browning tried
to count the ways
she loved her love.
I dare not try-
I fear I'd spend
my whole life counting,
or else be lost
in rambling eulogies
to your eyes
or the way you move your hands.
Spoiler
The poem I got this from is pretty well known, I think, but just in case: http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/elizabeth_barrett_browning/poems/4602
