Sonnet

You say that you have loved? Where are your scars,
Won on the immortal battleground of hearts?
Your eyes are all too young to cherish wars
Behind their glory. Ere the jest departs
Let me acquaint you of the thing you boast.
You say that you have loved? Have there been days
When love has stung you to the uttermost?
Have there been nights you lay all hot with praise
For one elusive as the flagrant dawn?
Parched throat and eager hands and old desire
To pull you down the sleepless path and on
And give you ashes for your anxious fires?
You are too young. Your eyes are sweet and slow.
You say that you have loved? How do you know?

Ester Alberti