Sonnet 1

Forswear thy vows and comfort of his frown Put sleep thou spouse, and silently arrive Thou cometh to me in thy night and gown Thy leg be bare, thy heart be much alive Conceive the ravens feathers on the dove Let not a guilt be governed by the mind When heart and soul believe this lust be love As fate has not the power to rewind For if to be a bride of much despair The rain shall clap its hands upon thy eyes And in return, imaginative fair The dirt be mud, and despair my demise If thy smile reflects not on my window Let fate be death, and smile as my widow Johnny Sumler 2007