Aha! I knew I'd forgotten these.

[krait]

TPM sonnets! These can also be found at the Master_Apprentice archive, under author "Ere-Lian Maslii."

Let's start with the most embarassing ones first, shall we? These two belong as a pair, and while they're saccharine enough to rot the teeth, I'm sort of proud of them anyway--just because it took forever to get the end of "Question" right.

Question:
How can he choose me, from all of those
Who daily, nightly ask with limpid eyes,
Or sultry smiles, or lips red as the rose
His favors? I can't fathom, can't surmise
How I, so distant, so reluctant, grey
With age and care, could hold his youthful whim--
December cannot be bound unto May;
How is it I, tall, graceless, aged, and grim
Could push aside so may youthful hearts?
How can he, seeing them, reject their claims,
Their offered love, their sweet seductive arts,
And give instead to this old man those flames
That dance within his eyes, his touch, his soul?
His youthful fire kindles this weary coal.

Reply:
Beside these flighty children, you stand tall,
Strong as the oak, which neither fire nor frost
Nor stormy winds will ever cause to fall.
Speak not to me of what your love may cost
Of my short life; I do, as birds of air,
Seek the strong shelter of your graceful arms,
Sure that the stormy blasts would never dare
To offer your smooth limbs their spiteful harms.
Blooms blossom and then fade within a day;
The noble oak outlives, shelters them all.
Why would I trust my heart to quick decay,
When your strong heart, strong shelter, will not pall?
The sparrow, worn and weary, seeks a nest
Where branches warm and solid guard his rest.