Sonnet 145

Poetry will often make love smile
Much like soft notes of music pleasing ears;
Though poems of love may be beset with guile,
Sweet music woven in can hearts endear;
The songs of love are oft times puffery,
Like peacock plumes designed to pique love’s heart,
Or warbled notes fond wafted on the breeze,
Each but displayed to prove the suitor’s art.
‘Tis why, my love, that I do write for you,
Why I extol your virtues with my pen;
It’s not my license here that I abuse
But my desire to praise your truth again.
Why deign to merit worth with false acclaim?
To flatter such would mete true beauty shame.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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