Madrigal: When Summer Nights Were High

I’ve dreamt of you more nights than I
admit, those nights when I saw you,
just you, when summer nights were high;

those nights when just your smallest sigh
ignites in me that passion new;
I’ve dreamt of you more nights than I
admit, those nights when I saw you,

and wondering if your passion’d cry
might tell a tale of you more true
than I could pry with gaudy lie;
I’ve dreamt of you more nights than I
admit, those nights when I saw you,
just you, when summer nights were high.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written for a beloved friend.

This is one of my favourites. My friend loves this poem, and though we remain unrequited, we remain very good friends.

~~~~

Okay, it's form poetry, not very popular these days. Do the words flow? Does the sense of the theme build? Does it satisfy anybody's tongue as you read it aloud?