Maria Gratia (sed Contradicta) Plena

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Impish Queen, sharp of tongue 

 Ready wit, fair and young. 

Firmly focused, not distracted, 

Leaps to judgments quick enacted. 

Fleet of foot, quick to laugh,

Glass of wine pleased to quaff.

Hot French-tempered icy Scot, 

Taste her ire would you not. 

Regal bearing, woman’s mind

Whips from cutting to most kind.

Heady mixture, riddle sublime: 

I shall know her heart in time. 

 

A Sonnet of Desire

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Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

No, that’s been writ already by The Bard;

I sought to scribe thy beauty in some way,

Yet finding choice words even now proves hard. 

I view a regal portrait of a Queen:

It shows a cool and formal countenance. 

I seek the woman’s heart that is not seen, 

The giddy sweetness not grasped at first glance. 

Passing glimpses have I had of this 

Through sly, enticing words that prick and tease; 

Her Grace has even deigned my lips to kiss, 

A fleeting pleasure, gone like morning’s breeze. 

For consummation this poor subject yearns, 

Sensing Passion ‘neath her portrait burns.