The Love I love lacks the eyes of a doe,
A gaggle of girls might boast eyes better—
Bodily art, bewitching face to go,
Yet, her modest assets still me fetter.
The earth in my garden, a shade of grey,
May have more red than the red of her lips;
Late dusk still has more lustre one to sway
Than of lingering smile she ever keeps;
Her visage has warmth of autumn's late eve,
I see wilted rose in her wrinkled cheeks,
The bouquet of her bosom that much reeks
Would make even brave-hearts her room to leave,
And yet, one truth works as a Cupid's dart,
I love her thanks to the gold of her heart.
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Sonnets | 16.11.08 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bodily art! ! Love and art. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Again the same thing.2008 poem someone comments after good ten years. And that someone, Mr Laconic, is special to me and my poems. Thanks indeed.