Are you a dream, or shadow in the glade,
That walks through golden fields where sunlight glows?
In dew-kissed winds, your trembling forms cascade,
The river bends and greets your gentle flows.
...
Sonnet I
Within the womb of earth, in silence laid,
A hidden seed endures the storm's cruel might;
...
When winter's breath lies softly on the eve,
We sit with coffee, dark with curling steam;
Its gentle warmth bids silent cold to leave,
And lifts the heart from frost to waking dream.
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Fourteen crisp lines compose this narrow room,
Where ten-beat iambs pulse like steady hearts;
The A and B alternate through the gloom,
Until the first four-line quatrain departs.
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Is priceless love so rarely to be found?
In soulful union, heaven meets the earth;
By inner peace the spirit is then bound,
As sacred songs give quiet joy their birth.
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Within the silent garden of my heart,
Your love descends like soft and morning dew;
No earthly storm can tear our souls apart,
Since every breath begins and ends with you.
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My silent room was walled with cold of stone,
Until your light unlocked the heavy door;
A name unknown is now a seed well-sown,
A sacred song that echoes ever-more.
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Your gaze holds fast the dawn's enchanted light,
Where saffron hues of spring the spirit grace;
Within your form, a pulse of pure delight,
In sacred eyes, love's dewy light we trace.
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The broken heart a sacred altar stays,
Where silent grief preserves a holy light;
No carnal touch can dim its steady blaze,
Through starless hours of the spirit's night.
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Upon your brow, fair virtue finds a throne,
Where my sacred love reigns in grace supreme;
A beauty rarer than the stars have known,
The living truth of every poet's dream.
...