More Shakespeare's Sonnets
By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 66: Fair Youth
(Guilt 15)

A storm of passion rages in my breast
When I do rest my gaze upon her face;
Oh, how she lingers here at my behest,
Yet trepidation holds me at my place!
A thousand thousand words of every kind
Threaten to swarm my lips with gibberish;
And if coherent words I'd somehow find,
I'd only spoil the honored tongue of English.
What other language can emotion speak
If not through spoken words? My heart did ache
To see her standing here; my knees were week;
I faltered on my feet, and she did take
      Me in her arms' embrace, where I now shed
      An ocean on her breast where love had bled.

(To be continued...)

A/N: And here's the final piece to this heart-throbbing part of the sequence... Hope you enjoyed... There will be more later... But till then, ta-ta for now... ( ^_^ )