Sonnet 147

A smile, not for an age but for all time,
Truth not for now, but for eternity;
A heart fair filled with gentle love sublime,
A soul ensconced in proud fidelity;
So is the essence of a woman blessed
That every man desires to know her name;
And for her love, the dearest truths confessed;
Where men might die before they brought her shame.
My love, you wield this power with golden grace
That men go mad with dreams and pure desire;
Renouncing pride to gaze upon your face,
Enamored such, their memories left afire.
That men brave dragons for such worth is clear;
To champion that which truth and beauty mirror.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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