Treasure Island

David Wood

(07 April 1950 / London)

Sonnet 33: Where Beauty Lay My Love Lies Alongside


Where beauty lay my love lies alongside
In your beauty lies the truth of my heart
How therefore can the truth of my love chide?
And so I have to play sweet Cupids part.
This love of mine cannot be unfaithful
For to neglect this love would be a lie,
And to love thy beauty is delightful,
So a lie is something I would not try.
With your hair coloured like the daffodil
Your complexion like a pink rose
That does give my dear true heart such a thrill,
Out of all others it was thee I chose.
The beauty of love is truth itself blest
And the truth of love is a treasure chest.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 02, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 02, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sonnet 33: Where Beauty Lay My Love Lies Alongside by David Wood )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 3 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A moment of truth, Mark Heathcote
  2. After Jacques Brel, mary douglas
  3. I Didn't Want This To Admit, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  4. Deciding They Will Run, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  5. Cutting Edges Plaguing, Terence G. Craddock
  6. Curse, MAD DEW
  7. Nature's Glory, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
  8. A SECRET, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  9. Life Image Distortions, Terence G. Craddock
  10. From Chibok With Love, Adeosun Olamide

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]