Sonnet # 333
Sometimes to silence I myself commit,
Or oftentimes it seems is tied my tongue,
But now in writing I`ll my heat permit
To give you thanks with all of it that`s young.
Thanks for your help, your kindness that does show.
Thanks for your time, you williness to work.
Thanks for the job you do with nothing low,
And my return excuse too poor to perk.
There`re roses, roses beauteous beautiful,
And roses beauteous beautiful inside.
I like to think you are one wonderful
Because your beauty to the heart is tied.
So gentle, modest me do call you a friend,
And with this line my sonnet now does end.
poem by Luis Estable
Added by Poetry Lover
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