For heaven sprinkled silver on your hair,
I glimpsed it first, and only yesterday;
That sable brown, so rich beyond compare,
Slight glistered as with snow that will not stay.
At first I thought it not but playful light’s
Soft dappled shadows, that with aspects change;
That from a nearer view would flee my sight,
And thus my musings there would be allayed.
But it was silver still on nearer view,
Soft lunar auguries of passing time,
Sure not the auric gilt pure hearts accrue
But well earned bounty from a life sublime.
Argentic touched, I not once thought you old,
For your sweet silver is but here my gold.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.