Sonnet
For Amy.
 
 
 
 

Although your pale complexion, I confess,

betrays occassionally a tiny flaw,

I can't deny the soft skin I caress

clothes perfectly the woman I adore.

And who's to say my views are any less

than those that fashion's puritans opine?

By what criteria can they assess

perfection of such singular design?

Whatever preferences we may profess,

we all dance to a sentimental air;
 

but let us bow before those who possess

a beauty so original and rare.

    Now let me gently take the hand I praise,

    and thus implore you never leave my gaze.
 
 

-- tjh 06/12/2002