Sonnet 15 [at long last]
 

The Lady smiles when she sees his face
Look down on her with love inside his eyes,
She sleeps to dream of him under his gaze
She wakes to laugh with him at each sunrise.
A time he was not hers? - A memory
That fades away in every velvet kiss;
His silken hands now are her reverie
His constancy the source of all her bliss.
And when he's gone and she is all alone
She carries his heart with her, in her thoughts
She revels in the beauty she has known,
The joy that she has found what she has sought -
    For in his eyes, his touch, is everything:
    The present, past, and what the future brings.
 
 

So this is a flagrant love poem. So sue me. Poets can't always be fraught with tragedy, you know.