Humble Services Sonnet
What humble service could I here contendBefore your wealthy mastery of eyes,
The stars in His warm quarters naught contend
With brilliant suns that glisten cold as ice.
If e'er I be your knight, or be your slave,
The earth would shift with all my stength and sane,
If't there no place to walk, a road I'd pave
Relieve your stressed foot, avoid your pain
If't not a sleeping place, the roses twined
Latch'd by my arm and woven spider silk
Would brace the tulipbeds and minty vined
To lay a pillow'd, piping honey milk.
If day should pierce love's sleep before she's done,
My arrow'd pierce the heart of blazing sun.
Sonnet by weirdzarun
Read 626 times
Written on 2008-12-27 at 22:59
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