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Allow rays from the Sun
To give life to my mind
And spring its gentlest ride.
Love is patient: love is kind,
Love arrives at the conceived flood tide
Full term at fourteen, sonnet's bona fide.
Is my sonnet devoid from the sweetest rhyme?
Or its meaning seemed to be deformed?
My sonnet will grow fine in due time
Into the right structure it will be formed,
Giving my voice a chance to develop
Into hope sealed inside God's envelope.
March 15 2014
Copyright Leaking Pen 2014
Rev Nov 13 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem