152. My Cupid’s cute eyes unkind to me,

SONNET 152

By JH Sayyar
My Cupid’s cute eyes unkind to me,
Your pretty looks slay my poor will,
What is will? Nothing a rising tree;
Of will, compels me, do not take it ill.
To express will, will needs few words,
With the tongue, the tongue is dumb,
Rides on the tongue horse fly like birds,
You say nothing, if the tongue is dumb,
My being proves that my love in line,
Your love deceives in a cunning way,
My eyes weep more, I peak and pine,
I do feel in the soul your love sway.

A strong will affects our tender will,
As skin is cracked by the winter chill