Love Sonnet 43 Bring no ambrosia, I wanted no more,
Bring no ambrosia, I wanted no more,
Nor fill my cup, with sweet nectar to drink,
Of the graces dance, spare me no encore,
Muses' songs next time, but not now, I think;
Tell Apollo to mute his lyre today,
Happiness eludes even here above,
Goodbye Olympus, I must go my way,
To the plains below, where did wait my love;
I need no disguise, say, the form of swan,
Or of shiny bull which to roam the fields,
She is no huntress who could swiftly ran,
But angel of love that her heart so wields;
...Let her see me in my most humble form,
...And may our love then overcome the norm.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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