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"sonnet29"
upon desire of plain a man
she exhaled warm into his hand
her breath to he they did entwine
soft words sincere her mouth would sign
before him stood a jewelled thread
with page in hand to he did read
and when her eyes the end would reach
they'd lift and pool with her beseech
in words of kind, lips two do swim
onto the spirit now on brim
dark winds to swirl them into ash
to touch the willow with a lash
in minds to bathe as souls bejewel
unfolding language `tis their fuel ~
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
26aug08
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