All English Sonnets
LOVE AND PAIN
My love was my undoing, still I love
And count my injuries, new and old.
My witness is the greatest God above,
But still my golden story must be told.
For those who fear disaster, disapprove
And live in fear of pains, bit by bit,
To them I want to tell and this way prove
That, they would from my loving benefit
By telling them. My loving merely means
Acceptance of the beauty predestined,
For passion, heated kisses, saucy scenes,
Of thrashing, writhing bodies closely twined.
So what are few inconsequential pains,
The trophies of loving, blessed gains.