Sonnet XVIII: Beauty, Thou Art Made

30 Dec


When the gods made you, they cried bitter tears,
for they ne’er again achieved such beauty,
as with your eyes, and the wealth of your years,
and your lips, so attuned to their duty;
your glow, unfathomed e’en by the moon,
no light has e’er shown as bright as your gaze,
how soft your delight should ne’er come too soon,
as with your smile, rose lips of blissful ways;
and of countenance, your form is divine,
no grand master of e’en the finest art
could e’er match your curves, nor sculpt your design,
no earthly fire could match that of your heart;
’tis by the gods that you love only me,
I am e’er in love, as e’er love should be.

Leave a comment

Posted by on December 30, 2015 in My Poetry



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: