Three graces sit with their heads together,
Whispering asides, casting coy glances
and subtle smiles with laughter that dances
soft as a mist wrapped around their shoulders.
Unreachable beauty behind high walls
This coarse mortal fool has no art to breach.
A bleak lonely gulf keeps them out of reach:
My heart, my hope, rises then so swiftly falls.
And yet, and yet the music dances on,
a pretty girl laughs, my despair is gone.
Three graces may never share my table,
true beauty is richer than my fable.
Life is too short to mourn chances lost,
A life of regret is not worth the cost.
Supposed to be a petracchan sonnet, but i bollixed up the structure.