What beauty reflected in love's fair eyes,
a passion hence to become my treasure.
Stirred to flame, I dost fail to disguise
need in my loins ere want of fine pleasure.
As sweet the music I doth find profound,
tis more honeyed thou lips when touching mine.
Oh! My pained heart shall beckon love resound,
thou moonstruck maiden, unearthly divine.
Silent I shan't be, so near to soft breasts.
This besotted man hath nary more breath.
Grant me thy pure soul, not in mere request,
but let thine tongue speak before my near death.
I beg thee allow the stars remain bright.
Give thyself to me fore the end of night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
January 9th 2016
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016