SONNET 11
By JH Sayyar
In your love Darling I peak and pine,
It is my love compels me to write:
Like godfather love your love divine.
Like a spring dove my love at height.
On your pink breast scattering hair,
When I keep my head on it lovingly,
My Muse soars touching lips O Fair
Close your eyes like a sunflower bee.
Women’s mind like a beggar’s pot:
In which put a coin, no one knows,
Which to his? The hand that it got,
I know my love like a spring rose.
Your love sweet more than honey dew
Yea, I suck it sitting on the yard pew
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