Should some sagacious creature read these words
In future eons—granting earth still turns—
Perhaps he deems my musings age interred
And on a heap of ash, my thoughts should burn;
But yet, perhaps, he’ll find them quaint and true
And think, perchance some dull intelligence
Reached forth from time, his conscience to imbue—
Some measured thought—of when, and why, and whence.
Thus in the future, if true love shall last,
And if two sexes still embrace in dance,
Through thoughts on you he’ll glimpse idyllic past
And marvel at the bliss of true romance—
Like Paris and Helen, we shall vanquish time;
Ensconced in verse; immutable in rhyme.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.