A Sonnet of Lost Love

Forlornly are wedding bells here chiming Within ears of this lonely man, forsaken By fate, who now sits and writes words, rhyming To find solace from his mistress, taken. A girl whose eyes would glare with such greatness Beauty's standard would drop when she would blink Her hands so soft, her touch was like a kiss Her raw beauty, strangely, rising at wink. No longer will she call my lot her love For she has wandered from what was our home Yes, far from my cage has flown my sweet dove She has left me waiting, crying, alone They say: if you love her, let her go free Yet they know not the joy she brought to me