More Shakespeare's Sonnets

By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 37: The Poet
(Inspiration 26)

Yet rather than implore for greater scope
Or style or anything that poetasters might
Contend for, I'd forsake them all and hope
For nothing more than thou to be my light;
For if I had the sharpest wit and gall
To dare the Fates with such impressive oaths
But lack thy spur to strengthen my recall,
My genius wastes away within the clothes
Of witty lies, concealing to enthrall.
Therefore I'll hide no more behind the mask
Of honey-tongued deceit, but bear it out
With all the strength t' uphold so great a task
And prove myself to thee the most devout:
       But not with words alone, but with my heart
       That beats the truest measures of love's art.

(To be continued...)

A/N: Here's the next installment... Note that it has an extra line in the middle, making it 15 lines instead of just the normal 14... Just to add some variety, I guess...