I like her eyes, a blue, some saw a sun.

My eyes seen no delight as strong as she. 

Her love to speak, I never hear her shun.

And in some way she never let it be.

Is nothing like the beauty of her lips?

The wind unknown, it taken on my mind.

But this, of fate, I have a hope of ships.

A ship within her love, I let it find.

Beneath the stars she should speak. I love her worth.

If this is even truth, I wrote her name.

Her nature is too hot or she is earth.

So shall my love come, date and go to flame?

But no, I wish, it pains my mind a lot.

It ends and art is all love gone to rot.