Each finds the other, matched in measured worth;
So just in judgement is the proof of love-
The humbler, rarely weds with nobler birth,
And keen of mind, no dullard yet shall move.
The doer suffers not the sluggard well,
The pious not the scourge of wicked heart,
The gallant rarely with the timid dwell,
And truth from lies will frequently depart.
But how each chooses each is still unsure
For outward viewers swear that love is blind;
Yet some unspoken gravity immures
A sense of balance kindred hearts enshrine.
So why you should choose me, there is no sense,
And for this love, there is no recompense.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.