A SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET
The moon doth appear in that dark horizon
And glistens with a beam of drifting light.
Let thy passions stroll with the companion
Of forlorn hovering clouds in moonlit night.
O Nature, sing not thy lonesome songs again
For I doth find a friend in each of thy cells.
I rejoice in thy touch even in wrecked pain
And my life hath mend its stuttering wheels.
Dazed weariness once mocked my forlorn being
Ere it came unto thy shelter, Mother Nature!
Whilst my morale dips in bosom, come and sing
A song of Love that warmeth every creature.
Nature hath a bliss that drenches our dry mind,
Pouring tender showers amidst the roughest wind.
(This is the first time I have tried to write a Sonnet, so, please pardon my shortcomings)