sonnet #1,631

I'm so in love with you, that's so to speak,
My hand can't hold yours, it might sweat and shake,
The talk might trail off, while my heart might break,
Of own accord, say we two club unique.
A lick of lips, a wry pout sure can wreak,
You've got that quaint inflected voice quake,
And touching fingers, friendliest feint uptake-
I shouldn't look so close, that too goes chic.
No, it's much worthier that I look elsewhere
And try and see us as others see us,
A foolish fellow making furtive fuss
About a beautiful girl, here nor there.
If you can't love me, I'll die, I'll respawn,
Then I'll evade, avail my sad heart torn.

(Chorus)

o respawn
o regenerate
o revive

sonnet #1,630

Though we're so different, as cheese and chalk,
Excepting code, I'd pine, hang close and stalk,
She ranks the dearest damsel comely clean,
I'll then admire above, at loopholes lean.
She's clever, funny, kind, with gestured grace,
It wholly causes my youthful heart to race;
Inspired at supper, her veil then a shawl,
She coolly breathes air out in her arched hall.
Her steed trots upper bailey smooth flagstones,
And sideways saddled she will toot mot tones;
I waged to wait on her on this stairwell,
But it's in her moat deep eyes that I dwell.
In Lady Gambol's gaze I rest in peace,
There knightly troubles trivialise, then cease.

(Chorus)

o peace
o accord
o serenity

sonnet #1,629

You slur, yet slander seems outside your style,
Indeed, you've actioned questionable deeds;
Your feral parrot lives and dies and feeds
A prompted opportunist, off one mile.
Yes, there's a thing or two you titter vile,
It draws my darker sentimental needs,
To psychosomatic expression leads,
Benign as mere cysts, phew, removed short while.
Your twenties were a raucous whirlwind ride,
The fall out torts of precious metal muck,
Of fool's gold bars and crumbling gold beside,
Your lessons learned, you leveraged your luck.
Once more I force through benefit of doubt
The wisest warning, ease off, else you're out.

(Chorus)

o doubt
o incertitude
o muddle

sonnet #1,628

I should've spent attentively the time
Alone with you, entirely me at fault;
The cool estrangement and morbid mime
Kill minutes mused, by increment, by jolt.
Your absence cost of working clime to clime,
I wonder now if you'll perk up and bolt,
Our future pointed forth, as it's your prime
We're silently assessing, move or halt.
It's dirty work, girl, which I love to do-
No other dirty work works just for me,
Commuter's travails tick an apogee,
And on each weekend break, I'm back to you.
Somebody's been the dutiful young wife,
To fault eked out a beautiful old life.

(Chorus)

o wife
o mate
o spouse