A gentle warning for this trust that binds
Is not sufficient for a love that’s true.
Yet do not find stern statement such unkind
Or yet my deepest message misconstrue.
You are my fondest dream, as ever, more;
And all past passions pale by compare.
You are the sun, the moon, all beauty’s store
Reflects itself in that sweet visage fair.
Yet slight untruths do tarnish with a stain
The dearest hopes that love has ever sown;
And action such does truest love profane
And trade its’ sunshine smiles for sad moan.
My heart is yours, you hold it in your hand,
To keep in truth, or crush with false command.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.