sonnet Whatever it is which

Whatever it is which she meets in me
Laid plumb in plain view passes anyone
I solemnise her sweet indemnity
I swear by simple thanks then underdone
If genial granted other boys agree
If festive flaunted other boys flirt fun
If sagely sifted other boys soon see
If raring rated other boys ruin run
In doldrums we loll we as one collude
Yet things about her puzzle even pique
Or they enhance her harmony unique
Its mine alone I see her bide and brood
Ill catch youth by eye cones and rods unread
The brain trains ultraviolet filters fed
Chorus unread unclaimed unbroached