If swore I, ne’er describe to thee my heart:
How desperately doth it yearn for thee;
To quicken at a very sight of thee,
And every instant when I hear thy voice;
Withheld I, how’t doth race when com’st thou near:
How might it skip when dost thou touch my cheek;
To pound its expectation of thy touch;
That mayst, thou see, so fierce, my body shake;
Kept secret I, its quiet morning pace:
Amazed, as beat our hearts in synchrony,
My wonder as they nary would diverge;
Thence, locked my parchment, quill, and ink, away;
If swore I, ne’er describe to thee my heart;
Would thence unheard, its beat forev’r be still?
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
This is beautiful and still it is freeverse? I see that it is.
Technically blankverse, in iambic pentameter;but yes still non-rhyming.
What more wilt thou do, my love?