I met you not before, before you found
A man, and children you to him you gave,
And you so kind do show, so sweetly sound
If single you, I`d bow for`er you slave.
What lucky man he is who kisses your face!
The father of your children, lady dear.
That if the heart were ways to measure grace,
You`d come abundant thing, a heaven clear.
Oh, yes, I have a loss; you are all took,
But then from time to time I find some joy;
To sit with you and have on me your look
And live the false you are my precious toy.
You are not mine, better met than not,
And know the earth has women like you got

Luis Estable

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-273/