Above the hardened world I see a cloud white edges soft but dark pervades its heart beside the brook a stone so bright and proud her striking beauty makes her stand apart I bow my fingers wrap around her waist I lift her from her lesser comrades there I touch the smoothness of her face her sheen and curving lines without compare I want to take her home with me to keep I pause and hear the moving gurgling brook and cast her back into the liquid deep I hear her splash and take a final look And with her loss I feel a tiny grief but smile I touched her being oh so brief
My first try at an English or Shakespearean sonnet.