Sonnet 118

I shall write your song in the book of love
That others may in times to come there sing;
And in sweet verse your beauty I shall prove
For beauty is a trill to everything;
And they will marvel at a song so rare,
Not equaled since fair Orpheus did write;
For with your beauty, none I’m sure compare,
Though muses pens sweet words of love bedight;
And in crescendo they will know your truth,
And in allegro they will see you dance;
In harmony they’ll marvel at your worth;
In dolce too they’ll sway in sweet romance;
To capture your quintessence in a rhyme –
And here immure your beauty for all time.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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