Sonnet 1

I miss thy smell on my pillow and bed.
I know lost days and smiles that thou miss not.
I ask why not thy sight flees mine head.
Strange how thy lips now kiss as mine were rot.

Not shame nor wrong hath I for thee to love.
Thou push and pull and tear mine world apart!
I gave thee love, why then hadst thy to shove?
What more for thee to ever grant thy heart?

Where art thou love, why doth thy fear me so?
Calm thy tempest, mine thief of poverty.
I shall not laugh nor smile for tears to grow,
Where once thy cheek were all mine sovereignty.

Until the end I swore to wait for thee.
All I ask were again thou would love me.