Sonnet 109

Like an iced vodka with a twist of lime,
Your beauty did assuage my love torn soul;
I drank you in as if to sooth my mind,
Though arm in arm, each knew the other’s goal.
I pulled you close and took another sip,
Then pushed you back and stirred you with my eyes,
Brushed from your face an errant auburn sprig
As if it were but sure some faux disguise.
That moment you stood true, my dearest friend,
Sent but to sooth my bitter heart felt pain;
I felt your favor thus would never end,
And I would ever flourish in your reign.
Still, drinks are drinks, so measured, you were nice;
When full consumed, ’twas not much left but ice.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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