ACCEPT THIS KISS, A THOUSAND MORE, MY TREASURE
Accept this kiss, a thousand more, my treasure,
Let eyes be darts, for Cupid muddles letters
To tongue-tie lovers’ speech, while in his fetters
Are kisses and embraces guiltless pleasure.
The more our lips fulfil their fated mission,
The more my thoughts intoxicated hover.
My prose to state officials I hand over,
So rhyme and verse can find their sweet fruition.
It’s true I feel, for passion’s flame is really
Form pure and simple, if it would be plastic,
But that, my love, which your arms open freely.
But for my thoughtfulness a net I fashion -
One for my sighs of wisdom quite elastic -
The beauteous sonnet’s fine and tight-meshed scansion.