Sonnettics

Saint Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orléans fame
Was born a simple shepherdess in France
And though King Henry with his legions came
To Harfleur, Henry didn’t stand a chance

Although they started well at Agincourt
At Orléans they were greeted by the force
Of Joan of Arc, the heroine of war
At les Tourelles she routed them, of course

Her beauty and her strength were gifts from God
To guide her countrymen to victory
And though she fell to Henry’s vicious squad
She overcame cruel English tyranny

Saint Joan is still alive in France today
In everyone who lives above the fray.

This is the tune I am working into this sonnet:
ellers
****
Come be my song; come be my work of art
My words will match the rhythm of your heart
Come be with me, and let me sing of you
My love is more than words; my love is true

I don’t know any Valentine as sweet
I melt like chocolate melts beneath your heat
As sweet as tasting your sweet lips on mine
Your loving warmth is soft and so divine

I’ll turn my love into a song for you
In harmony with kisses, warm and true
My little songs of love enjoy your kiss
Love in your arms is pure and simple bliss

Come be my work of art; come be my song
Come be within my arms, where you belong.