'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'

That's just perfect.

Some I do. Some I don't.

I'm fond of A.E. Houseman and particularly fond of Thomas Hardy, but one of my favourite poems is this sweary effort from Philip Larkin:

This Be The Verse.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.

Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
By William Shakespeare
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.

I like many. This is one of my favorites:
O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Homer

I like, I do. I like the ones I do that caused a woman to cry. I grew up and lived my life without heros or heroines. I am my own island. Almost 50 years ago I liked "Romancero Gitano" Amado Nervo.

Some.
. I'm my world of sleepers
Everything will be erased
I'll be your religion
Your only endless ideal
Slowly we'll crawl
Swallowed by the seductive night
My torch has burnt out.
.....world of sleepers/carbon based life forms

I am not a big fan, but always liked Poe's work. Modern poetry doesn't do anything for me.