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The Sonnet Of She
August 15, 2018
If roses are blue, then her eyes the sea;
Golden her skin, far worth than anything;
Black sea her nails, for you can not foresee;
Here lies beauty, sweeter than everything.
Her voice is soft, but speaks diligent lies,
Words of conspiracry, hard to define.
Demented by love, most are hypnotized
You can not have her for she is all mine.
Her lips are destructive, bursting with black;
The way she moves is swifter for a fact;
If I was her there'll be nothing I'd lack,
Guess I'm the one that needs an artifact.
She is my love, my beautiful flower
And with her shall I spend every hour.
© Alexa B., Boerne, TX
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