Sonnet 57, So Sweet

So sweet is thy rose it gives greatest joy,
To live close and near to your music and words;
Which comes from a garden - from the inwards,
They inspire this muse - nothing can there destroy.
Thy beauty is complex in single envoy,
With lines like roses or poppies vineyards;
Never to the mind they loosen up buzzards,
They come from the truest feelings employ.

Each hour then read more deeply in to this,
And know each line - its delicate poison, true,
Like lilacs or honeysuckle they are there;
For the troubled eyes to see inside to bliss,
And everything old they will renew,
For unto touched heart in feelings they bear.