sonnet 105 of 214 to my muse...



Sonnet 09/10/03                                DCCCLIV                

To be near to my muse would warm my heart,
No matter what the weather. In her eyes
I find the spring, and in her words I start
To see the light of summer. My verse tries
To tell her what hopes mean, but mere words fail
To show desire. Within her soul, she sings,
And echoes reach to heart: My own dreams pale
Beside those of sweet muse that vision brings.
I long to share the joy I find in thought
Of one far distant, but near in my mind.
She gives heart hope that some of passions sought
Might yet be found, and I might her dreams find.
I cannot touch her now, nor taste soft skin;
But in my dreams I might her smile yet win.