Sonnet 81

Though we have thrown our wishes to warm winds,
Dispersed our sweetest dreams among the stars;
Of all fond hopes, the fondest one remains
Far stronger than the ones disbursed before:
That our love here and ever will stay true;
That you will always dream my words in song,
That every blessed dawn shall love renew
And crimson sunsets consecrate our bond.
Life’s joys and tubulations are but chance,
The wisest of the wise know this be so;
But love’s sweet hope lives on in pure romance,
When other hopes have gone like winter snow.
Though pain and sorrow may sweet love befall,
Unto staunch hearts, true love shall conquer all.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 80

Yours is a beauty that shall live in rhyme,
As ageless and timeless as those before;
In poet’s ink your memory reigns sublime,
If the hand that writ, is here excused compare.
Some speak of Nefertiti whose gaunt face
Stares out beyond the shifting Nubian sand,
And others yet, of Helen’s Trojan grace,
A murkish myth that epic Homer penned;
But relics of past beauty clearly show
In bronze, in gypsum, or in marbled stone,
The lengthened shadow that will often grow
From the sculpted lyrics of an antique song.
Thus, when these words are read in times to come –
No greater beauty ever graced the sun.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Ivory Tower

The ivory towers
Are feathered bowers
Where pompous asses sit.

With nose held high
They scan the sky
To convince us of their wit.

But what they learn
‘tis best to burn
For good rare comes of it.

It’s to the man
With tinkers’ hands
That great ideas are knit.

When the lucres gone
They fair move on
And no one cares a whit.

So be aware
Where air gets rare
The act is but a skit.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 79

On this special day, as your children play,
At times near and dear at your gentle feet
And yet, at other times, far, far away;
Cherished thoughts will wander there, and so seek
That comforting reassurance that lives
In heart’s of every mother, heaven born,
And, to that breast of pure love ever gives,
Solace, in the knowledge that, safe and warm,
Labors of love and sacrifice live on,
In precious unique forms that thrive and grow
Still more dear, even after you are gone-
Replete with sweetest memories they shall know;
A mother’s love is love beyond compare;
The sweetest flower to grow in heavens’ air.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Last Safari

Last Safari
When the sun has bleached my colors
And the stars are growing dim,
When my weary back is bending
And my hair is growing thin.

When I am no longer roving
And I hunker by the hearth,
When no distant ports are calling
And sweet home is now my berth.

When the stag stands on the hillside,
Now unafraid to roar;
And the salmon swims the river,
Unmolested by my lure.

When the snow filled mountain valleys
Are not christened by my tracks,
And dark distant jungle trails;
Are but seldom now cut back.

When my JR rifle’s silent
And my pack lays on the floor;
When the golden last safaris
Are but memories evermore.

Though the sun still rises early,
And I know I’ll seldom roam;
I’ll yet quench the quest within me,
‘til my father calls me home.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

A Thought

Not much of a poet was I
But I could make you laugh and cry –
So what else does it matter?

When I look at your visage fair
And I see none that could compare;
Then what else does it matter?

When cherished life is so fleeting
And soft held hands set hearts beating;
Then what else does it matter?

If these words could transcribe our love
And lift it up to stars above;
Then what else does it matter?

What’s meant to be is you and me
On the wind, in the sky forever;
A love that lives and ever gives –

And that is what truly matters!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 78

So where were you when I needed you most,
When acrid tribulations had me bound;
The devil seemed to have me by the throat
And evil did, in harshest forms surround.
You did forsake me in my time of need,
Or so it seemed, not deigning but to call;
I know you were aware, my plight to heed,
Your silent absence stifling like a pall.
I truly thought of you as a dear friend,
Hardly capricious, honest through and through;
That trust and kindness sure would never end
And fondest memories ever would accrue;
But fortune smiled, here, ending all my pain,
Luckier still, I have you back again!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.