If mortal mind has strength to transcend time
In words transcribed in ink or rigid stone;
Then shall your visage live etched in this rhyme,
If beauty might in words like this be told.
If I could capture all the youth in spring,
The freshness of a year of dew clad morns,
The warmth that home and hearth in winter bring,
And scents that in a thousand roses burn.
If I could fix your image perfectly—
If quill or chisel could enshrine your worth;
Then could my case challenge eternity,
And in these lines your beauty gain new berth.
It is my hope, my love, that this be true,
And in my verse your image shine anew.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.