All English Sonnets
My love is with me sore and much annoyed,
With pristine anger flushed. Her shallow breathing
connotes that in her heart she sure is seething
With blazing eyes she stares. I avoid
To haggle but this ruse does fail to soothe.
I made an ass of myself, what to do?
I mentioned her in public, loudly too?
I lack sophistication. An uncouth.
I draw attention to the temple bells,
Which in the name of Lord are loudly tolled.
She says that I was foolish and uncalled
Was this and how her bosom heaves and swells
Well! I was deep in her love and proud of you
I made an ass of my myself, what to do?