A Fine Bouquet (Shelley's Sonnet)
In declarations from a lover’s heart
are ruby roses in a fine bouquet,
but can a thousand blooms my thoughts impart,
in words of love upon a summer’s day.
My voice is hushed before I dare to start,
tenuous whispers dare not to be heard
within the beauty of a crimson rose,
how shall she hear a single silent word?
Romance and dreams I write with trusty pen
in faith the day will come and she’ll suppose
to take my hand and kiss me once again
and let me read her words of poetry.
To remember those days of way back when
we kissed beneath the weeping willow tree.
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