Sonnet #∞

(For any new readers: on Fridays I post my poetry, unless and until I run out.)

What special virtue dears my love to me
That with flames sets my heart a-burning white,
That makes her “teach the torches to burn bright,”
Sets her as a seal ‘pon my heart, to free
It from corruption hidden within me?
What merit makes, within, my heart so light
And gaily so to sing, to so take flight?
Oh, what is this, that stirs up poetry?
The property is beauty, as in love
So always seems the loved one so fair
As springtime flowers. The quality’s kindness,
Mercy, virtue, music, as heaven above
Is ever filled. Her face’s lovely as air
To me, in love’s perpetual blindness.

This poem is one of the few that I can date with any precision. I wrote it for my AP English (Lit & Comp) class in the spring of 2005. (I also have the analysis of it I did for the same assignment, but my own worst critic [i.e. me] thinks even less of it than of the poem, and so I’m not reproducing it here.) I’ve also posted this sonnet to my wiki. As always, your feedback of any kind (though the more substantial the better), including questions, critique, suggestions (especially of what to post next–-I’m running out of old material), or comments, is eagerly requested and greatly appreciated.

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