sonnet 127 of 224 to my muse...


Sonnet 12/02/04                        DCCCLXXVII

I open arms to muse, and hold her tight
Within a dream of heart's desire. I feel
Her warmth, and know even one kiss would seal
My fate: She is to all my hopes the light
That shows all beauty, and gives heart the sight
Of future, and forever. Is hope real,
That I might have her love? Or does hope steal
From dream of dream, to wonder without right?
Should I think that imagined passions give
More than reflection of my needs? Does chill
And cloudy night lead to a change of fate?
I dare not dream that more than my dreams live
Without some word to alter all, and fill
My heart with hope that I might her dreams sate.