Let not the world fall to its knees too quick,
Hold fast your heart and longer hide your love.
The sun's bright candle burning at the wick,
Heart's position stationed as it doth move.
Shakespeare's Sonnets never do compare quite,
His words hold stronger meaning to mine ear.
With pen in hand I hope to see him write,
Across the page, his fluent voice I hear.
His words, like honey, descend off the page,
In a puddle I remain stagnant soft.
Mine heart he has stolen, he can engage,
This heart is his and he may have it oft.
Clear is my happiness what once was not,
All love I hold for him is not forgot.
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 12:29 PM UTC
Let not the world fall to its knees too quick,
Hold fast your heart and longer hide your love.
The sun's bright candle burning at the wick,
Heart's position stationed as it doth move.
Shakespeare's Sonnets never do compare quite,
His words hold stronger meaning to mine ear.
With pen in hand I hope to see him write,
Across the page, his fluent voice I hear.
His words, like honey, descend off the page,
In a puddle I remain stagnant soft.
Mine heart he has stolen, he can engage,
This heart is his and he may have it oft.
Clear is my happiness what once was not,
All love I hold for him is not forgot.
(c) 2009, Joy Vanasse.