Love Sonnet 03

My love is kiss of pristine morning dew, 

Pure as the meadow rain that makes grass grow, 

Or else, as tears that jealous lovers knew, 

Or water from the falls that rocks would throw; 

Her smile is flight on wings of sheer delight, 

That raised my dreams, ascending skies so high, 

Which kept Euphoria very well in sight, 

And not to fear of running out of sky; 

Her touch, soft as though petal falling down 

Torn from a rose that tosses in the wind, 

Caressing my face, smothering a frown, 

And all pervading cares, it would rescind; 

......Some angels may come down, and fair they were? 

......Yet, for my love, it can't belittle her? 

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