Sonnet 52, by NY Shakespeare Exchange

So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest,
By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
     Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
     Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.

Sonnet 52, from The Sonnet Project, by the New York Shakespeare Exchange.

This is exquisitely, deftly crafted poetry about the quandary of longing for someone from a distance.  In those quiet, reeling wee hours of the night, imagination can make that love feel real.  And intimate.  But alas it is not.