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All English Sonnets


When, at appointed time, you do not come-
And loneliness assails our rendezvous,
Then mind is stormed by doubts unwholesome,
And heart is full of spiteful, ugly blues.

To my chagrin, and my grave annoyance,
I come to know, what being in love entails,
And in this state my anger and defiance,
Are zeroed on my self and my wails.

Are countervailing, make me louder cry-
I burn in barren deserts of my grief-
With every passing moment multiply-
The fatal pangs of passion, to be brief.

If, at this moment you were at my side,
You would have also- wailed, wept and cried.

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