Sonnet Xlix Poem by Maangi Mongare Kevin

O Upon which hand, great Father above the sky
Had His fine clay, mould and created the queen?
Or upon which hidden portrait, did His eye espy
To make my mistress' hips, high in such design?
Master of the sky, who affections created afresh
And upon sides enlarged with sweeter grace
As the sun of morn, eve and midday's harsh
For gifted queen, I'll thank at her gracious pace
And as from the roses comes midnight fragrance
So to my mistress is my space inherited
But for the Creator's final draft, image and stance
Have I who by side a gift, present presented

Wonder I soils that created you, silver or golden
When others I espy, not sand, clay be better even.