sonnet 178 of 236 to my muse...


Sonnet 14/09/04                           CMXXX

Arms tired of daily toil would hold you near,
To let your warmth heal weariness and aches.
What is the power of your touch, that makes
Just thought of you a cure for all heart's fear?
How might my words explain dreams, to make clear
How much I need thought of your smile? Hope takes
What you might give, that all of longing wakes,
And shows heart reasons to hold muse as dear.
Should I not dream desires, nor hope to share
Some time under bright moon, looking in eyes?
Are words enough to give, to show I care
That you have time to dream? Thought of age tries
To dull desires, but for my muse I dare
Ignore the years: How can love not be wise?