Sonnet VIII

To love the lady for whom my heart longs
Is easier to do than to have her.
Love does endure through the rights and the wrongs
And makes brighter the prospect, as it were.

‘Twas easy when juvenile days were here,
When love was so innocently prescribed
Without judgment, or the onset of fear.
Now, affections at heart have multiplied.

She remains a riddle I wish to know
With an answer I’ve yet to discover.
How will this love be seen as more than show,
And however will I be her lover?

I maintain that such a thing is hidden,
Yet not as altogether forbidden.