Sonnet 70, I Woe Not Thee... Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I woe not thee who whisper in the night,
Affectionately like a humming bird;
With temptation that wants to make me flirt,
And darling, hold you even close and tight.
So stay with me and bear with me this flight,
Of inner and close most delicate word;
That comes from the heart and grows as a spurt,
For if it's wrong how can any be right?
O rosy cheeks and moony coloured eyes,
Thy smoothly skin of silken pearly white,
How can I but love all of you there is.
When moods and tempers through my body flies,
And take out pleasures in a candled light,
With tenderly feelings and hottest kiss.