Sonnet 3

When autumns’ mysterious alchemy
Does gild with gold the hues of summer past;
Fond memories of you return to me,
And I recount the joining of our paths.
I do recall the softness of your eyes;
Cascades of rich and lustrous raven hair;
I close my eyes and you are by my side,
A trick I’ve learned; my loneliness to bear.
Truth, honesty and beauty all in one,
And countenance of porcelain so fine;
A fairer flower never saw the sun,
A rarer treasure never could I find.
What can a fool, in ink, attempt to do,
But pay tribute to an angel fair as you.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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