A Sonnet

A burning fire lit inside

Each time, I have a quick glimpse.

I want to touch, to taste and

To squeeze the whole in my hands.

Shall  I compare thee to an African gazelle?

Though I’ve never seen one beside,

Nor have  I a faint desire to touch it as to thee.

Both have the sweet beauty of heaven.

Thin, long and beautiful legs going back and forth,

Short, soft and bright eyes escaping so forth,

Long, black hair to warm thoughts,
Red and long nails to blind envying eyes

Suddenly, I stop dwindling on how to act,

“Stop!”, morality, religion and the like burst out.