Opps!

That should have been:

Sonnet 42 of 68 to Kelly


Sonnet 22/12/00                        DXVIII

My mind is quiet, silent as a grave
Where dreams may be interred. I do not hear
The sound of distant voices: Am I knave,
To seek some word? Will my muse reappear
When moon reflects on silver snow? I hold
To hope: I dare not imagine I'd lose
This new-found muse. Yet, evenings are now cold
Without the flame of dreams for verse to use.
My heart is heavy with regrets, that I
Have not yet seen her smile, nor heard her voice.
I do not know if further line might try
To find way to her heart: It is her choice.
Yet, might I plead to look into her eyes,
And seek for some sign of missing replies?


I certainly don't want to get ahead of myself here...