SONNET NUMBER 1
Excuse me for my errant heart's conceit,
it loves not where it should but seeks instead
to walk along some barren rocky shore
in hopes that Love will come to meet him there.
Forgive my sighing when I look into your face,
its loveliness pierces right through my core
and I cannot keep my eyes from seeing
or protect my soul from joyful suffering.
Of course it would be better not to see you,
to walk a different path where we won't meet,
but my tyrant heart would not have it so.
Endless aching is the ransom I must pay
to behold again your purity of form
though I know time will lay it all to waste.