Sonnet 1

Oh, thought of you, a hook to trap my mind,
In these, the times you deign to go fishing.
Habit erratic is habit unkind.
And yet, reel released still leaves me reeling.
If you would sail to oceans far away,
My body knows, the sight, the sound, the smell,
The essence of you would ring cross the way,
And launch me towards the love I try to quell.
Is this the love of which the poet speaks?
It seems to me too cruel to be as such.
I hear that love can make a strong man weak.
I, not strong, would strengthen by your touch.
          So, I sit and dream about the moment,
          When I, saved fish, am the one you've chosen.