I've decided to try my hand at a petrarchan sonnet
Loves sweet nectar that settles on your lips
And the eyes that sparkle like Roman wine,
How in my dreams I wish it you were mine;
And in them caress your glorious hips.
Oh how fortune in your favor so tips
And how my wretched eyes so freely dine,
That I would recklessly pay any fine;
Oh how fortune in my favor so dips.
Yet here I stand, so distant and so far,
Failing to relinquish your fiendish hold,
Like vicar, I resign to abstinence.
And through this window, you I cannot mar,
For how should you know? I am ne'er so bold,
As to admit my love and gain some sense.