Matt Ancient

(11 january 1985 / Africa)

A sonnet of love III


The finest flower in the garden
it smell reaches heaven
your beauty is outstanding
even among the hearten
sweet red wine
which cometh out of the kings vine
wish you could be mine
for kings don't make history
but hero's does
princess do not marry kings
but love does
i pray thee to pardon me
oh thou fertile piece of land
to multiply my generations like the sand

Submitted: Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Edited: Thursday, September 12, 2013

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