Reginald's Sonnet

My love, how deep thy beauty stirs affection;

It comes not from a coat of painted gloss,

But rather springs from perfect imperfection

Unaffected as knolls of fitful moss:

The subtle marks that gently speck thy face,

And kindred moles that frame thy honest form

Bespeak a character with such a grace

That a once-frigid soul might now feel warm.

I wish my features could return in kind

The compound natures that shape thy beauty,

But I am simple gloss of simple mind,

A character bound by terms of duty.

So, through this rigid verse I vainly strive

To match thy heart, and make my love alive. - Amanda Riddell, c. 2015-2016.