SONNET 93
By JH
Sayyar
All say you cruel, I say you merciful,
I call you O Rose a fishy nature girl,
More cute looks fingers-knitting wool,
Your coquette art cannot get the churl.
Your beauty thief angles forget soon,
Hanging on your breasts, lovely hair,
My Lady Ruth Princess goes to ruin,
Your sighs die the beaus all are aware.
I know your mind than your Maker!
As dolphins know how deep the sea,
You my Fair my dullest soul awaker
No way to bind your love like a bee.
Your face shines like stars in the sky,
Trusting in you my all pleasures die.
0 Comments