Sonnet 8

Could I but choose to wait a century;
I am fair certain I should never find,
A friendship like the one you’ve shared with me,
The endless smiles, the selfless thoughts so kind.
What quirk of fate hath caused our paths to cross:
Joined joy and sorrow in a love’s embrace,
And then as though ’twere but a pitch and toss,
Crass casualty should have such love disgraced.
Thus have we shared a dance in life’s great ball;
And felt our heart fires kindle, burn and die.
Two granite monuments destined to fall;
Like rivers which with time will hence run dry.
How can cruel fate such sorrow have unfold
And let me touch that which I cannot hold.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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