A Castle in the Air

My first sonnet!

I cannot fathom, my little dear one-
Thy warm cheeks upon beauty rest in peace-
Out of circumstance you emerged to stun,
and the Sun in your disgrace to decease.
‘Neath the dewdrops, beginning certain spring-
Wintry weather does succumb to passion-
Water into wine as the martyrs sing,
And thou wilt fall in heavenly fashion.
Walks thy maiden from the ambrosial skies
And speaks in words that melt in others hands;
Whispers of her caught within your blue eyes,
In the face of God, so hallowed ground stands.
         But a question by thy dear maiden fair;
         “I wish to own a castle in the air.”