Sonnet 61

As silent yellow leaves fall to the ground,
So does their passing signal summer’s end.
The green whose glory once did here abound
Resigning to a fate it can’t contend.
So each shall follow each ’til none remain
Save crooked branches strained against the sky;
Each sequent foil on foil but to maintain
That every living thing was born to die.
Still, gnarled branches in warm breath of spring
Do resurrect the glory of past days,
And nascent blossoms with sweet scent do bring
From dead of winter, living hope upraised.
So thoughts of you, when absent you may be,
Are like a breath of spring, to aged me.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s