So Sweet, No Regrets

Come here; come to me; my dear.
Give in before my desires dry.
Grant me before your desires dry.

Your lips must part and breasts wake up.
Your bottom must turn a hot bed,
That the sweats, like fountains, must wet.

Set aside your blushes, I beg.
Set aside your virtues, I beg.
You will get what you miss, I bet.

Have a course, which is not a curse
It is a myth that you are spoilt.
It is an act of sport, that’s all.

Come here, very now, my dear.
Give in before my desires die.
Grant me before your desires die.

Be it a consensual act
And so soon a buried secret..
So sweet as it is, no regrets.

by Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.

Comments (5)

.....if any be a satire to decay, wonderfully penned ★
'' In this and the following three sonnets the poet elaborately excuses his silence and the hiatus in the production of his sonnets in praise of the youth, a hiatus which perhaps corresponds to the period of absence commemorated in the previous three sonnets. Whether this silence was a real or imaginary one it is impossible to know. The defence against the charge of failure is a conventional defence, in that it uses the standard figure of the Muse as the source of poetic inspiration. But here the Muse is blamed for having dried up. She has spent her energies in worthless pursuits and is castigated for being devoted to trivialities, being forgetful and slothful. In the following sonnets she is accused of being a truant, neglectful, incapable, and beggarly. According to GBE, 'Many critics feel that Sonnets 100-103 lack any sense of commitment or emotional involvement'. (p.208) . Nevertheless there is a sense of easy grace and relaxed detachment, perhaps born of necessity, which gives a pleasant charm to this group. After all the heart searching and agonies of former times the poet now has to justify his own failures. The chiding of the Muse is in itself an amusing farce, a clownish way of shifting blame away from himself. The Muse is berated instead and the poet, by his blasphemy of an ancient goddess, risks the wrath of divine punishment with studied carelessness. The theme of lines 13-14, that verse might confer immortality on the object of devotion, has already been explored in full in 55,63,65 and others, and here it seems to be tacked on as a wistful afterthought. Age is taking its toll both on the lover and the beloved, and neither can withstand its ultimate overthrow. '' [in]
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out
I started reading Shakespeare and I've found this to be the best so far. I don't know if it can get any better but I'll keep reading...
Read and understand -thank you Will Egal Bohen...