I shall inscribe your song in love’s own book,
That others, in their time, may rise and sing;
That hearts and minds to melody are took,
For beauty is the lay in everything;
So shall they marvel at a song so rare—
Not matched since Orpheus first touched the lyre;
For none I know could ever quite compare,
Though muses’ dreams of grace and love conspire;
In crescendo, they shall know your truth,
In full allegro, they shall watch you dance;
In harmony, they’ll marvel at your youth;
In dolce, they shall sway in sweet romance;
Thus will I mark your essence in sweet rhyme—
And so enshrine your beauty for all time.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.