A New Sonnet

 
 
Painful, I fall to you for trust  
as your light casts it's line through my eyes.  
There is such natural, quaint light and it palls our coils to rust.  
Our tempestuous words, blessed by such delicate kisses, line my once virginal thighs.    
 
You only educate yourself to believe  
I was the first to tend to your wildly innocent places  
because your light was light and it did concieve    
an idea whilst bathing in many faces.  
 
I lured the vicar to pray for you  
when you had no comprehension of the lengths of my feeling.  
I did not mind to see such peace in the smoke we blew   
'cross the travelling skies to hide from ill-dealing.  
 
So couch, my cowardly, dear and hazy-minded child,   
you were passive but never less wild.