More Shakespeare's Sonnets
By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 89: The Poet
(Admonishments 16)

A silence lingers ere he speaks again,
In which I cannot glean his thoughts or purpose,
As if my loving words were said in vain;
Canst thou not see she's trying to usurp us,
Thou for her pleasure, I for gall and spite?
And still he doth not answer me with words
But with obdurate silence. Now the night
Draws to a close with east'ring skies, though birds
Have yet to call upon their neighbors' mates;
And so I bow my head in sadness, mute
Unto my master-mistress while he waits
For me to argue out the same dispute:
      And so in silence I now take my leave,
      For my sweet lord of love is so naive.

(To be continued...)

A/N: 16th and last sonnet for this epic sonnet-posting session... You can all breath now... And for everyone who's fanned me, I'd like to apologize for flooding your inboxes with my updates for yesterday and especially today... Anyway, hope you enjoyed these pieces... Ta-ta for now... ( ^_^ )