A Sonnet

Shall I Compare Thee to a Naughty Child?
(with apologies to William Shakespeare)

Shall I compare thee to a naughty child?
Thou art more wilful and more resolute:
A boy may be reproved with comments mild,
But words curb not thy conduct dissolute.
Sometimes I think, to test my love and bounds,
Thou need’st me to endure without complaint,
Yet my reflective thought thy rage compounds:
Thy tricks would try the patience of a saint.
But when contrition floods thy wayward soul,
And guilt and shame thy joyful spirit crush:
Then gladly dost thou bend unto my role,
As I do strive to make thy bottom blush.
In thy submission dost devotion lie,
My love and care for thee will never die.