Sonnet 22/04/01                                DXLI

Perhaps I ask that you give, not my verse.
But whispers, that my heart can turn, enfold
Within my mind, and place on page: A terse
Few words might feed my dreams and heart. As cold
As lonely nights, the silence in my dreams
Should have no place in Spring, but I can hear
No soft words to show vision. Though time seems
To pass, I live in Past, with no one near.
I do not ask that you give heart, but share
Some part of dreams, and desires: I might find
The visions that I seek. You need not care,
Though I might hope to know more of your mind.
I search for muse: Are you the one I seek?
Can I hope that your words will visions speak?