Anniversary Sonnet 2

See how my love doth lie in sweet repose.
What dappled phantasms doth she design
Within that Morpheus-entangled mind?
Does she dream of her dreams? Of rows and rows
Of books penned by her hand? Bouquets of rose
Or pink carnation gave by judges kind?
For once she danced. And like the Golden Hind,
She was pursued by many hunters' bows.

Is her dream mine? A simpl'r one for sure:
A lasting life, lived not for petty prize,
Nor accolades, nor suitor's heavy glance.
A dream not for myself. A dream for yours.
I hope that dream fulfilled. That when you rise
You've lived without a want for second chance.