Sonnets LII-LX
The Endeavors of Lips
by Michael R. Burch
How sweet the endeavors of lips: to speak
of the heights of those pleasures which left us weak
in love’s strangely lit beds, where the cold springs creak:
for there is no illusion like love...
Grown childlike, we wish for those storied days,
for those bright sprays of flowers, those primrosed ways
that curled...
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