The Phrenic Nerves

If I were bold, I would bet on a breath,
Sanguine and satisfied I'd drift on a zephyr 
And mark flakes of gold deep in the depths 
Of her eyes of azure, Amber and nectar.
Yet I shiver. I quiver.
I await tonic deliver me
Respite from tension and valor to do
Virtuous deeds in honour of you.