Love is not blind, but sees with sacred sight,
A sweetness hope might scarcely recognize;
Such vision shared ignites love’s ardent light,
Forgiving flaws where others would divide.
Yet what love sees, to others seems purblind,
For love can see the essence of the soul,
Accepting faults that others would not bide—
Fair judgement not of parts, but of the whole.
Love is the core of every human bond
That holds steadfast against the trials of time;
It lives in lover’s hearts, past death beyond—
Celestial fires that burn with light sublime.
In your bright eyes I see eternity;
Elysium’s flowers dancing in the breeze.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Nakedness and nudity are not the same you see,
Though both can be examples of man’s hypocrisy;
For the truth is often naked, but it is seldom nude
And nudity’s not truthfulness, though oft considered rude.
Yet both describe the lack of clothes as though ’twere but the same,
But when man talks morality, one’s profound and one’s profane.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

From the first smile until the last tear falls;
From strident cry unto soft rattled moan;
From that first glance a mother’s heart enthralls,
Until the final glimpse of casket gloam.
Yet though we know life’s prelude and its end,
We may not know the hand that turns each page,
Nor how life’s fleeting dramas twist or wend,
When grief or glory steps upon our stage.
Yet who would but forgo a mother’s touch,
And who of flesh would scorn love’s first sweet kiss?
Or who might deem a father’s pride too much,
Or fail to see a newborn child a bliss?
Though grim the story seems that ends in death,
Within each line, lives joy in every breath.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

What can I say that was not said before?
Yet still you importune with lying eyes;
Comportment past attests you are a whore,
Now shamelessly returned to ply your wiles.
I begged you not to scorn these loving arms
But high on lust or spite, you chose to leave;
And now, sham victim of some grievous harms,
Love spurned, come back in tears, on bended knees.
Still worse, I learn that you are ripe with child—
Yes, heavy with disaster’s bastard now;
And here returned with but a strumpet’s smile
To state misfortune’s mine; that I should know.
We once shared misery, oh woe betide!
Now mine’s expelled, and yours grown deep inside.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sweet death! That blessed sleep in endless night
That frees us from the burdens of life’s dray;
Though colors ever bring the mind delight,
Who would eschew soft dusk at end of day?
Of peace and solitude that knows no end
Who dares complain of such a tranquil fate?
Who wakes from restful slumber to lament,
That quietude did not but aggravate?
As surely as soft moon succeeds harsh sun,
As surely as bright sky shall fade to black,
Why dread that time when worldly work is done
And we embrace a sleep that ever lasts?
Men fear not death, but dreams that there arise—
Of dreadful hell, or banal paradise.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Then take me here just as I am-
No more a friend, no, just a man,
For friendship bonds you still may find,
Exceeds stock mortar of mankind.
Yes human hearts with love enthrall
But hearts of friends do give their all;
The common love ephemerally,
True friends embrace eternally.
Acquaintances may come and go
But what of friendship do they know?
A friend endures in utter trust
When all hopes promise turns to dust,
Yet listens when all ears are deaf
And soothes the soul of love bereft;
Dependable ‘til eventide,
Strong, sure and stalwart by one’s side.
While for a fellow you might cry,
It’s for true friendship you would die;
Since I have not been this to you,
No comrade’s quarter should you show;
Since you have not been this to me
I ever more do set you free.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.