Sonnet

Thy sweet tongue need not compose poetry.
Each precious kiss from you gives voice to mine
Thy embrace a poetic place, and holy
Every sweet journey filled with verse and rhyme.

Golden autumn turns to brittle winter

And these chilly bones crave your warm respite.

A lonely inside voice cries “I miss her.

I long to be wrapped in her love tonight.”

Oh Venus, Calm the fit full sleepers dream.

Drench this fierce thirst with the memory of fire.

Keep well my immortal beloved queen.

Mother of Light, Lady of Love and Desire.

And murderous Fate, stay your cruel plan!

Bear me swiftly, and often unto her hand.