July Sonnet #8

Suppose this is the most we’ll ever meet

And that our conversation soon will cease,

And now your store of patience is deplete,

You want from my affection some release;

I won’t regret what little time we’ve had,

For everything I do is savored well

And all my actions are honestly clad

Though at the time those things are hard to tell,

And if you wish to never see my face

Except for times when you must think it right,

I’ll hide myself away without disgrace

And carry on believing what is right:

A worthy quest, is always in my eye,

The one in which you have given a try.