SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET CONTEST: Closed

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To avoid confusion, Shakespeare's is purple and "Rhea's" (mine) is this one:

Sire, my heart thy verse indeed contracts,
And turns my thoughts to thy intended deeds,
Bid me not in thy embrace love enact,
My troubled conscience for its freedom pleads;
Seeking now fortune's salve from certain grief,
Love is unkind, fruition too dire proves,
That I shall find thy love, like spring, too brief,
As thou loves me, let me not be thy news.
Give death sooner than love by time decreased,
Myself my foe perchance, but let me be;
Thy imagined tryst yields the better feast,
And forty winters of bliss shall I see.
         Pitied lovers lie with gay abandon,
         Alone, secured self, save from your canon.

Peace and power to you, always,
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