sonnet 98 of 212 to my muse...


Sonnet 01/09/03                         DCCCXLVI

My muse is far too beautiful for words
To tell how much I want her in my arms.
Yet, words are all I have, to send: As birds,
They fly, but cannot tell power of charms.
She is reason to dream, and, with her look,
She melts my heart, and seizes all of soul.
How can I chain desire into a book
And hope this pittance will earn me my goal?
More than just muse, she is the one desired
By heart, and mind, and soul. I ache, to dream,
But cannot my dreams shun: She has inspired
All of the future, and what visions seem.
I see in her far more than I can say:
How can I know this love, and distant stay?