Sonnet: For You

If out of scorn had someone shamed your name,
And you had told me I should call you “You”,
And need fool all future “You”s as you instead
Of say, my mother, or, my cousin – too;
Then I would gladly play this minstrel part
For I love you as you and you as “You”,
And if I could turn love into an art –
Should honor you as one Eternal rule:

Thus all “You”s in every sonnet said;
All cruel “You”s in politician tongue;
All myriad “You”s a minister would dart –
Could be of prayer turned to you instead.

For lives my Art, and you shall climb these rungs,
Where lives my hopes and songs; You could be God.