Sonnet #1

Oct 06, 2008 - 22:57 PM PST

Like her love was fire, it ignited
And like my soul was straw, it caught flame.
Though man's natural instinct is to fight it,
My love went to her without question or gain.
How she spoke my name just oh so divine;
Like none before her and none other since.
She was rare as a passing second in time,
Spanning the length of my self, inch by inch.
I lose all strength when her glance and mine cross,
Barely keeping balance, her love my crutch.
Truly, my Helen, a war worthy cause,
A playwright's dream to ado about much.
No beastie alive, to me, could deter
For all that I am is meant just for her