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Sonnet 20/07/03                                DCCCXXXIII

I hunger for my muse- Her smile, her eyes,
That feed all my desires. What might I say,
To angel? Can words show dream, or advise
How much she means, or hopes of love display?
I hold my muse, and kiss away her tears,
And soothe her weariness with sweet concern.
I wish that I might steal away all fears,
And for them only love of her return.
Might angel fly to me, to free my soul
From sadness, and despair? In dreams I find
Only my own desires: These years take toll
Of me, to see pleasure only in mind.
She is more precious than my lines might tell:
Without her, even heaven would be hell.