(sonnet # CCCCLXXX)
And why should I be worth so much, so dear
That you would call me all your own, "She's mine.
Aye no one else can have her," Valentine?
No rhyme or reason in my little sphere
Can justify the gift of love, so near
As to be likened to that true divine,
The paradigm Whose priceless Self benign
Both woos th'unworthy to His lofty tier,
And makes them His forever, keeping 'til
The endless day. As His suit, sans aught we
Can claim to merit, seeks and works His will
With sinners, making fit to ever be
In His dear presence, shall I praise your skill?
Just let me say you hold my heart's gold key.
20Jan12
D79b
-
Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 21st, 2012 23:57
- Comment from author about the poem: This was inspired (dare I 'fess it?) by my Boden pink flower-hem mini paired with a quasi-matching red sweater, and well, Valentine's Day seemed to beckon. Oh aye, vanity! (Don't tell me you never guessed.) Dreaming, I began. It is not half so nice as other sonnets, didactic? My only question, if such a fellow ever exists, what will he think of this?
- Category: Love
- Views: 30
Offline)
Comments1
He may think of plucking flowers and the "darling buds of May."
Thank you, Sir.
You are welcome.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.