Sonnet 10 Poem by Justin Reamer

Shall I compare thee to a warm summer's day?
Thou art more beautiful and more temperate;
Thou art the flower of May,
Which blooms far more than I am desperate,
Thou art grace put on Earth,
With angels singing new songs;
Thou art the true mirth,
With happiness forgiving wrongs.
Thou art the reason we all live,
With thine heart so meek and pure,
From which you give,
And are sadness's cure,
For thou art love I know,
Which is purer than any form of snow.