You were the morning sun that peeked into my balcony windows when dawn broke. The stars were your eyes, and the beautiful, long, thick tresses of the willow tree was your hair. Your hands and feet were delicate, like rose petals. Your skin was as smooth as the mirror surface of lake water on a windless night. Your cheeks were rosy, and your tinkling laugh floated through the air like music to my ears. Rosaline, you were my everything, my life, and my love; but alas, you did not love me as I did love you.
In the peaceful twilight, I would crawl out of my bedroom window and jump over the walls surrounding your home. I would crouch silently there in the orchard below, just waiting for even a small glimpse of you, appearing at your window, combing your hair and humming softly. I would watch you as the heavenly rays of moonlight streak through your golden hair, fall upon your rosy lips, and almost create an aura of beauty around your perfect figure.
Before parting that night, I would take a few last longing glances towards your direction, climb back over the wall, and run straight home. There in my room, I would lie upon my bed for hours, wondering if you would ever love me. You would not, because you have sworn on chastity, and therefore love no man. This broke my tender heart, and nothing in the world could lift my spirits. I would lock myself up in my room in the day, and weep, knowing that we could never be together.
That was all a long time ago. Only a few days ago, have I gone to your kinsmen Father Capulet's party, and have fallen head over heels in love with none other...