Sonnet L Poem by Maangi Mongare Kevin

So by name my mistress is shape and beauty
Or I call you true love's sovereign spirit?
For by word or line a bard does his duty
But never such countenance equals mist
Even by heavens, my ink feathers and chalk
Are mysteries upon her hips shape and shake
And even when sun of morn, eve, moon talk
Her joy, summons some in the head, ache
As so many misfortunes to who with ink, say
Some words, as features many, my mistress
In her body be, I'm to know what to pay
To my queen, all her nature's features, bless

So men can say, knows not the muse in verse
But my mistress, I know, you're my hard verse