serial lover

Serial lover (a love sonnet)

We went to the fields on a summer's night,
a tender promise not to make me cry.
Looking so handsome with those eyes so bright
for your love, I swore I'd happily die.
Delicate hands touched awakening me,
how could a stranger cast such a spell?
Ugly no longer, helped set my soul free,
these feelings I have, I have never felt.
Lying down in the long grass, we made love.
I never dreamed I could feel so much
happiness roaring to the skies above.
With only the most gentlest of touch
upon my throat. Promise kept I did not cry.
My promise kept too, for love I would die