I am, too often, deficient in speech;
Struck silent by the war ‘twixt intellect
And passion; seeking language that would reach
Your heart; confessions I pray might connect
Our souls; striving to express desire,
While pledging the respect of innocence.
Though my rhymes are feeble, I must admire
Thy beauty, and compliment elegance.
Muse, thou art more deserving of esteem
Than any who treads upon the base Earth
We inhabit. From that grace, like sunbeams,
Words radiate to celebrate love’s worth.
Be sure such light enkindles creation,For this took life by your inspiration.