Sonnet for Fawn

I find within her gaze such passion deep, Let out, aglow, through tender velvet pools Of softness’s strength that drive my mind to leap, Vacate all sense and wither like a fool’s. Each glance is like an arrow’s strike in feel, For love’s aim never misses low or high: A piercing of the soul that cannot heal When she does simply look me in the eye. No man should lose himself so much in her, Met oft by thinking blindly all is all. As shadows come and go and demons stir, Doubts rise to test one’s mettle, tears do fall. Love’s angry green will simmer as it may, Yet mine is she; there is no other way.