Monday, October 24, 2016

JH Sayyar's Sonnets

118
My Rose’s tongue sharper than a sword,
My mistress’s voice soft more than a rose,
But your bad behavior may not be cured,
Alas on advising you, you surely pose,
Her white and pink face shines in dark,
Her moving dimples fascinate my heart,
As all cuckoos lured by the rose in park,
My heart cleaves when she does apart.
Your eyes tease me when I think of respite,
 I see your holy image in the sunbeams,
 Looking at your beauty fails my soul might,
Now I do die in your notions me seems.

Your cute face to be a pixy on this earth,
I love my ladylove since your cruel birth.