22. When you put fingers on my heart hole,

 

SONNET 22

By JH Sayyar
When you put fingers on my heart hole,
The heart gives sad music full of woes,
Cuckoos listen to it from the South Pole,
Sitting in the thick trees in lovely rows
Your love teaches me not to love again.
Your love full of woe I cannot bear;
Your eyes enchant me therefore I fain
I weep when my dying wills appear.
Your love, your lips, your pink breast,
The reflections of Heaven I consider,
And in your shadow older takes rest:
As on false hope rest a foolish leader.

I write not your lie, expose your truth,
You look me pretty with pretty ruth!