Sonet num. 1

To thee, my lady, I am looking up,
To the heaven, to the stars and Moon,
Bearing this heavy, fragile cup.
We will drink together from it, oh so soon.
It's full of apprehension and qualm,
Yet full of hope and of love, though
Unborn it may be. I have to be calm,
Yet with sparkle in blue eye, there I go,
As befits the man worthy of his name,
And you have to be tempting and enigmatic
Although in our hearts we may feel the same.
So the tradition says...even if static.

So break the shackles of doubt and fear,
and let our hearts hug, my love, my dear...


Copyright© Finwaell, 2007-2008.

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