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Love Sonnet 185 My love, speak not to me of yesterday,

My love, speak not to me of yesterday,
Of withered rose and long gone ecstasies,
Neither of dreams nor joys that naught did stay,
But of today, where start new fantasies;
If love must hold against Time's adverse flow,
Whilst outer frills all fade like leaves in Fall,
Embers must blaze for eyes to see their glow,
And sprouts should grow new foliage to install;
Once we awake midway of severed dream,
God only knows if same resumes again,
For love could opt to change horses midstream,
If much wiser than choosing to refrain;
......My Yesterdays are kept, though out of date,
......Which Todays cannot find to emulate.
.

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