Sonnet 138

Could beauty live in ink etched here in rhyme,
This humble tribute to your heavenly grace;
Though ink will fade, may beauty ever shine
From words that craft the verse your memories trace.
Some speak of beauties past, of looks most fair,
Whose smiles could make the hearts of poets sing,
Of eyes so bright, with stars they would compare,
Replete with all the joys that beauty brings.
Of love, all poets’ pens confabulate,
Their beauties rare, bereft of mortal flaws;
But if they knew of you, they sure would state:
‘No need to stretch the sweetness of her cause;’
Though words do not exist to frame your worth,
From fading ink your truth will yet shine forth.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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