Email Poem

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Poem

I pray thy hands gently cradle my heart,
As love, thou cast my soul into the mist,
In this oblivion that is thine art,
I feel the torment where thy lips have kissed.
Thy swaying light that haunts my dreams each night,
It brings me closer to thy rising breast,
I seek thine eyes to cherish thy delight,
As on feathered pillows I take my rest.
In realms of sleep I listen for thy voice,
It guides my heart from nightly dreams at play,
To kiss thy cheek while in thy slumber lay,
For in my dreams of thee, thou art my choice.
 ‘Tis in thine arms my heart now yearns to stay,
And in thy beauty my soul sings ‘rejoice’.




Form: Tennyson-Turner's Sonnet

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