A Spenserian Sonnet
|My love, such joy I find in thee each day.
It lingers on my lips each time we kiss.
I feel it as you please me every way.
I must be dreaming passion such as this
That sends me into spasms of pure bliss,
A fuel upon the fires of desire,
That burns so hot a lover can’t dismiss
The smoking tendrils drifting ever higher
To reach love’s levels, where we both aspire,
Amongst the cosmic clouds to sweetly drift,
While serenaded by angelic choir.
You’re nothing short of God’s most perfect gift.
Oh heaven, hear my prayer where I implore,
Even after all these years.This is a Spenserian Sonnet.
The rhyme scheme is therefore: ababcbcbcdcd ee
It is in iambic pentameter, but I have used the feminine form on some mated lines.