When summer's light fell fondly on my face
'Twixt sprightly, viridescent hues of spring,
I fondly can recall my dainty grace
Escaping not your eye's sly wandering.
But though your lips could jest in pretty verse,
My own shy smiles said nothing in return.
And silence won't a troubled soul coerce,
So your advances I oft seemed to spurn.
But 'tis not true! Oh, how words fail
Me often when I ought to use them most!
I'm clumsy when I'm caught in Venus' gale,
And in it I appear a maiden-ghost.
Though I seem somnolent and unalive,
Perhaps, like Psyche, I can be revived.
I find the word choice a little pretentious in places, though maybe the form permits it. Your thoughts?
'Twixt sprightly, viridescent hues of spring,
I fondly can recall my dainty grace
Escaping not your eye's sly wandering.
But though your lips could jest in pretty verse,
My own shy smiles said nothing in return.
And silence won't a troubled soul coerce,
So your advances I oft seemed to spurn.
But 'tis not true! Oh, how words fail
Me often when I ought to use them most!
I'm clumsy when I'm caught in Venus' gale,
And in it I appear a maiden-ghost.
Though I seem somnolent and unalive,
Perhaps, like Psyche, I can be revived.
I find the word choice a little pretentious in places, though maybe the form permits it. Your thoughts?