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All English Sonnets


Tales behind the wrinkles on your face,
Are known to me in intimate details,
And hide no threat or burden some menace,
Or indicate no anguish or travail,

And right below your folds of wrinkles lie,
The blooming ruddy roses of your youth,
Which set me once afire, can’t belie,
The passage of the years, tell the truth

But sparkle in your eyes blazing forth,
Is telling me a story of its own
And on your loving lips, the lingering mirth
Has with the fleeting moments deeper grown.

And I shall thus remember you forever
In every living gesture or rendezvous.

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