I haven't written in a long while. With lack of something new and fresh to offer you, I dusted off this older Sonnet, my 2nd Sonnet infact and I am open to any suggestions and thoughts for improvement. It is a Reply Sonnet to Samuel Butler's "She was too kind, she woo'd so persistently..."
Could I Belie?
Would I have been so wise to love without a heart to break, a voice to vow and dreams of blissful nights-to offer less? It seems a waste of time to entertain this doubt. Would I be more adored by you, if I had used you as a fool -- had played a game and masked my care in deeper shades of shame? To hide behind feigned words implies a lie; perhaps this voice that says "I will be true," or speaks in written verse, enkindled dear, by hands that stop to wipe away a tear, could never spark a kindred flame in you? Should I decide to hide a better me, or speak of love and hope to set it free.
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