All English Sonnets
Unwillingly succumbing to her wiles,
Reluctantly attracted by her heat,
Enchanted by her charming, impish smiles
Infatuated, beaten, in retreat.
Unable to endeavour to her side
And wounded by her ever-lashing tongue
And cruelly reprimanded, hurt and stung
I count the festering wounds on my hide.
With grim and solid purpose in my mind,
And hardness written boldly on my jowl,
I turn my face in anger till I find
A tremor of repentance in her soul.
Then quickly to her wiles I succumb
And wonder: Am I sane? Am I dumb?