Thanks to Vikram Doctor for suggesting Gavin Ewart (whom I hadn't even heard of before)...
(Poem #263) Sonnet: Dolce stil novo
That woman who to me seems most a woman I do not compare to angels --- or digress on schismatic Popes --- or exalt above the terrestrial or consider a madonna. Nor do I search in others for her lineaments, or wish for Death to free me from desire, or consider Love an archer; or see her as a Daphne, fleeing the embraces of Apollo, transformed into a laurel. I am not lost in the amorous wood of Virgil. But although I do not rhyme or use the soft Italian, my love is a strong love, and for a certain person. Human beings are human; I can see a man might envy her bath water as it envelops her completely. That's what my love would like to do; and Petrarch can take a running jump at himself --- or (perhaps?) agree.
A straightforward sonnet, more than mildly reminiscent of Shakespeare's 'My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun ' . Nothing more to say, so I'll say it. thomas.  Sonnet 130, poem #44 [Biography] Ewart, Gavin Buchanan (1916-1996): Ewart first published poems at the age of 17 in Geoffrey Grigson's New verse of 1933. After graduating at Christ's College, Cambridge, he served in the Royal Artillery from 1940 to 1946, and worked for the British Council from 1946 to 1952, and then as a copywriter in advertising until 1971, when he became a full-time freelance writer. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1981. His works include Be my guest (1975), Or where a young penguin lies screaming (1978), All my little ones(1978), The first eleven (1977) and No fool like an old fool (1976). [Minstrels Links] My favourite sonnet is Keats' unforgettable 'On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer', which you can read at poem #12 A poem similar in its matter-of-factness and insight is Edwin Morgan's 'The Unspoken', which can be found at poem #147 And as in so many other things, Shakespeare was there first and did it best with Sonnet 130, 'My Mistress' Eyes', at poem #44 [Random Thought] Is it just me or is there a hint of Blake in the juxtaposition of 'lineaments' with 'desire'?