All in this isle of love fawn my fay;
The innate gale lures the lust and hides the rest.
Livened by the livid love the waves swarm the shore;
Love is keen in a good heart’s core.
Searing penchant for a pen is a quirk?
Parry not my quest, thirst not my quit.
The stoic torr that peers the sea is goddess of time;
The waves in tumult smite the peak in smirch.
Love lives in a randy tide -a sanguine doyen, as a dowdy occult;
The wiser wagers dread their dream and quit their cult.
If my little seraph knew my muse is fervent;
My extrovert ecstasy would make me monarch.
Chary rivulets vent to thee- The sea of profuse;
Thy visage is my victual, bid me not recant.
How long do I endure to filch thy feral heart;
And crave to swill my thirst with an ablaze art.
Raving beauty! Were I a brook in your vagrant vale;
The lawns of dawn in mirth would chaste your wholesome realm.
Don’t by my precious acquaint, I am a miser tyrant;
MY isle is not ubiquitous land-but she gluts to come arcane.