Sonnet 12


You provide to me the blessed seed,
that I might reach the summit of my art,
fulfil my urgent literary need,
words poured into my barren, desert heart
I hold a mirror to Your beauty in
My words, but even such a wondrous thing
reflects not the magnificence within
Your Heart, for that is far beyond the saying,
Oh Muse, Oh Goddess with the lustrous hair,
Whose eyes enchant me with their soulful stare,
Your lips that haunt my every waking thought
And sleeping dream with passion so long sought,
My Goddess stand forever by my side,
Under a bushel never Your light hide.


Words: Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images




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