Sonnet No.7No sun would smile nor touch the morning scene, too deep and vast the cloak of season's sway that most a brazen breeze could only lean and urge a kiss to have my warmth betray. Yet as this touch would have my soul seduced, through gently falling tears of ice I find at last some measure of my peace induced by flattering of wintry winds refined. While just as fellow giants shed their bloom and naked stand to cast a shattered shade let nothing but the sands of time assume a sight like this allow to slip and fade, for change would have all things never to last in fleshSonnet No.7
Sonnet No.6By billing heads against aspiring thought, provoking pompous vice to plead for more, of everything eternal, dead, and lore - hath monstrous man erased what time once taught. Thus longer not does day display at brink of light a sight a painter may portray, nor night, alike, a moon-shone scene convey for words to praise by poets passion ink. If not a single lullaby outrage the snake that's man and sink us so in tears - not wept nor lost, that contemplate our soul as dreadfully we drown this droning cage - then why let lesser ghouls dream all our fears and take away toSonnet No.6
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