My heart stampedes, like a herd of mammoths, when I think of your dark eyes.
With them in mind, I fear not the chattering baboon or the sabre toothed tiger
in the darksome night when no light stones shine in the skies.
You give me strength to brush away a mammoth like a moth, and you nourish my innards more than a bowl of brontosaurus broth.
To be brass bold, bee hive brave, I wish to share with you my cave.
Meanwhile, more mammoths thump the ground, not as hard as the beats of my heart, when I think of the depth of your smile,
the way you lift your eye lash with no sound.
Accept my Stone Age sonnet, even though it obeys no rules. It may sound pre-historic, I did my best with basic tools.