Sonnet 28/04/06                                  MLVII

I think about past muse, and heart desires
To know if she is happy. Can I ask,
When she does not reply? I cannot mask
Concern about her, yet my heart requires
Only that she is well: If she still tires
Of all my words, should I beg for reply
She does not wish to send? Must I deny
That I still care for one who dream inspires?
I remain fool, for all my years, to know
Her thought, and still have dreams. Yet, she is still
So beautiful: Can I to that be blind?
I long for words that would my longings show,
Yet not demand even her smile. Dreams fill
The emptiness: Might I cause to hope find?