I)

Our precious months have none for charity,
Yet isolation; do by months donate
My waning form, for solidarity;
Absent of sickness, nearer distant fate.
My end seems meek and much less horrible,
Than if your eyes did scorn what time does crease
Upon my skin, less white adorable,
For yours of beauty stilled, mourn my decrease?
No! Worry not, for sweet your sweetheart's eye:
Abundant in immortal glory's stage,
When paired with you no longer I am I
But us! Now five years more, ten gone my age.

Yet that decrease fear covids added
much;
Corona's law: times two without your touch.

(II)

Law bid's my better self from me to part,
Across the sick laid world in viral war,
If wonder where's my best? Let check your heart;
Where all my vibrancy and ferver store,
Albeit are my eyes that make the artist,
And art is love when beauty forms the muse;
Is you that map my beauty true; sweet chartist!
But you had only mapped your own infuse.
When this abundance has your dearests seen;
True mind's deduction knows what bears without;
A kingdom ruled in vigil for a queen;
Steadfast a lesser king, still king devout.

My love - my best you have and best to know:
Pity my least, when most without your glow.

(III)

Oh lovely one, tho' time's unsavory,
Your privilege from it's change and creasing blade;
Deprives from time: decay's own slavery,
From your sweet youth that sweetest form has stayed.
What deity does guard your beauty's jewel?
Whom favored graces do continue more;
In time that sweeter mood will turn to cruel:
An infamy well known from those whom wore.
Ah! When that fearsome wand does show your wear,
Never me fooled; yes grey would hue your white
And happen all the while before my stare;
But love shan't change, nor day appear as night

Nor heart could grey nor love turn older stale'd.
If proved these false; mere proved my pulse had failed.

(IV)

I tend this lockdown'd day in unmade bed,
Then greet the icy morn with bitter brew
But drown in distant news of many dead;
I gasp for foreign lives I never knew.
How near to you! Thus near my sacred stone;
Beholder of my love what love there bears,
If comfort's found beneath your chested bone,
Is mine revealed; a love when all else tears.
Ah! Meager seems my loneliest of lines,
When other loves have costlier of loss,
For ours shall turn when 'rona's force resigns;
Back to our hearted bridge at lover's cross,

But thought the pain if you succumbed the worse
Does think my end by body, soul, in hearse!

(I)

No lovelier of cause has pen to write
Your praise; my love's own glorious inspire:
Conveying love to black on naked white,
Returns by color, soaked in ink's perspire.
O, could by rhyme suffice your eyes that I
Convince by wage of heart; my love's here true?
Is truthfulness the star to pupil dye
And clarity; the heart in starry view?
Then bluish gems, that aqua twice in yours;
I humble here love's options made of two:
Accept my ardent verse where ardence stores,
Or seek the words another prose for you.

If worthier a pen on me replace,
How he out-blushed this ode, is my disgrace.

(II)

Remove my page then, far from where you stand,
But count the steps you pace as you reverse;
And sum their noted by your careful hand;
Amount the total tears my mourn disperse.
Sad offspring of my eyes would tarry not:
Like scattering of soldiers they'd unite;
And seek for mine your place, your grace and spot
Albeit puddle, pond or river's plight.
My watery of knights would surely find
Your source, that from them caused their liquid rue:
As you may travel far and fast as mind,
Yet you have distanced none the far you knew:

My words maybe where Saturn hides the sea
But then your heart is Saturn, hiding me.

(III)

Then why conceal, deny by chested vase
My adoration, born'd in host it lives?
You form my paradise, why seek in Mars;
A love's debris a rounding ring relives?
For they of heart write emptiness like space
And float the idle years of reverie;
Never to touch beyond a planet's face,
Is love to waste; proclaiming ever he?
Replete your eyes with hearted cause of mine,
I ask; not to mislead your eyesight's will
But reason; to accept what here define
A love already yours possessing still.

O' Saturn'd heart, your loveliness gives thought
Absent your favor here, this three is nought.

(IV)

What measure raise my words that eye'd no more
By mind and heart, both for these lines are filled?
Condemned into the realm of there before,
And here this forth with them as they are spilled,
Into a sadden pit that ink dissolves
By lava; love so equally does dread,
Where unrequited drowns, till there absolves
And what was once my love and all, is dead?
No! Sweetest muse, is me I doubt not love;
Mere thoughts we could be parted have me lost
But in my deepest fear's love's deepest glove:
In darkness love shines brightest, hope is glossed!

Oh truth, have I now found you for my eye
No lovelier of cause: has proved no lie!

Now if my love you took from where you stand;
Recount the steps you make as you reverse,
And sum you noted by your careful hand:
Presents the total tears my eyes disperse.
But offspring of my eyes should tarry not;
Like scattering of soldiers they'd unite
And seek for me yourself, your place and spot,
Albeit puddle, pond or river's plight.
Suprise to know my teary knights will find;
The source that from them cause of liquid rue?
For you may travel far and fast as mind,
Yet you have travelled none the far you knew.

For love maybe where Saturn hides the sea
But then your heart is Saturn, me the sea.

(I)

If weary eyes about this classic form
Intake each part; as syllabled before,
Then by such mind here meaning shall deform;
Equal'd the lay of bareness white it wore.
Is time as spare as air is plenty free,
That need bestow deception with what read?
Such reading glass forbids that beauty be
A script of heart; a sight that's better dead.
Yet beats here still and still you lasted long,
Now pity rules behind that centred stare?
To scorn this amateur's own state and song;
Summounting lines with mere a boorish glare?

If here by some of tradegy is true
Then wish you never read, nor wrote it too.

(II)

Enriched upon the riddance of your doubt
Comes comfort you're the old you thought myself,
Now you to fade and shall you fade without
The fame that gifts the older works their shelf.
New beauty now; adds you with further dust;
How knew the wise this antidoting cure:
That pleasures eyes and lets dissolve the rust
And bid this very heart here write her lure.
Yes! She by here account, withholds no lines
But flourish thoughts! Like leaves by April's spring;
That chatter sweet on limbs of sugar pines
In rustling, rapping ode: 'for her we sing'.

By merit due her beauty takes this hand
And writes new love not you in this withstand!

(III)

This poet's eye awakens in her grace!
Abiding treaty's of the sun and dawn,
That sovereign's sight reveal her blessed face;
Entrancing loyal ink that beauty's drawn:
With homage to the Nyx for hue of hair;
There woven rare as silk around a star;
To gently patterned curls of rippling flair
That becons yonder beams from moons afar,
To crystallize her pupils; aqua blue
In clear cut waters found no longer there,
With sensory of sight that pierces through;
Where waiting greets the words of love to bear!

'Oh not another sonnet!' Yet, by three
I have denounced your worth by praising she!

You, you with that humdrum
Come feel my heartdrum
For only you

Tap, tap beat your fingers
Till mine it lingers
In only you

Know, know how my heart works
Now feel my fireworks
Blast only you

Deep, deep in where love glows
Only where love knows
Is only you

Sweet, sweet we a couplet
Maybe a triplet
With only you

Sing, sing sweet in love song
Pitch high and six long
Love's only you!

(I)

Though man with plenty whom proclaim your love
Is love of his, be wary may become,
Of heart; in lesser love and shade of dove;
Compare your potency; mere scratch the sum:
Of radiance, from skill born out the womb;
No quarter moon reflects that mirror just,
Nor sun that wakes in only season's bloom;
In lovelier of loves, year round's a must!
Deservingly, let love let you be you;
And shade your sweet abundance bathed a-bright
Like winds of summer onto beauty blew:
To compliment is love, more than of sight.

Yet if with one whom loves yours less than whole
Then from your love you give, from you have stole.

(II)

Then may you ask where find this love I write;
This poet dreams and dreams so through his make
That ink does spray tho' well, is mere a sight:
The love he raves is poet's stead and sake.
It's not of my deception you're deceived;
Your love has met with foe whom sways belief
In faith, devolved where faith is ill recieved;
Illiterate to love of ink's relief.
Yet still I pen for eyes in deep your realm
Well versed in alpha letters of the heart,
Let I revive this truth imprint that helm:
How beauty dwells within all-loving art!

And you possess love's many forms we hold
So dear and so majestic to behold!

(III)

Not from sweet fantasy becomes my words:
They flow from love, they flow in love to page;
By palpitating beat each two of thirds,
The third I do divulge my lover's stage:
How unaware this rose, of ardent truth
That becons my lips but witholds my tongue,
Renounces age and blooms a brighter youth
That's flutters on my face a bird unsung.
At night returns into my budding chest
And pass the moments by, like wind and time,
No! Poetry in three unveils my zest!
And couplet spill my secret love in rhyme:

My chasm where breath of love does form and brew
Is muse of mine and all of mine! It's you.

How absent was of mine in summer's gone
From you, whom passed and left the winter's cloud
Concealing me from king of eyes upon
The meadows glow, with none a ray allowed.
Oh I see you within my passing years
Of season's mirror, that in autumn brings
The withered leaves to fall as does my tears
And ochre takes your gold and angel wings.
Even in Spring does the hue of flower's dim
With sadden gaze in morning's weeping dew;
Looking on me with pity worth on him,
Like all my sorrows stare, and Springtime knew!

Yet if could florals take my seasons' gloomed
Still leaves me of a heart with you entombed.