This is a character poem written for The Great Gatsby, which I read just recently (finally) and thoroughly enjoyed. As a result, however, this little sonnet came into existence. There may be a partner version of it eventually, but for now, there's only this.
WARNINGS: Spoilers, and potentially pitiful-sounding rhymes.
Gatsby
This house of mine is a beach-side resort;
I host many parties here all the time,
Nothing matters if she hates it, old sport,
And if she hates me, my life is a crime.
My sweet, my love, my idol, my Daisy,
I will perform all that she bid me do;
Her feelings undimmed, just growing hazy
As time throws our old love further askew.
I love her so much that she can't do wrong;
If she kills, I'll be framed for it gladly;
If it means I can hear her sweet, sweet song,
I will stay, even if it ends badly.
For her I'd kill a man, happily die,
And yet I cannot be closer than nigh.
