Sylvia, sweet and light of heart was she,
A flower garden bloomed within her breast;
Upon her crown, spice-scented ebony,
Her silken skin by alabaster blessed;
Dark eyes enchanted with angelic light,
Rose lips did burn with honeyed rapture sweet;
Soft touches tender tingled sheer delight—
Her virtue did with cherub hearts compete.
By heaven’s grace she wandered to my arms;
I oft in moonlight watched her peaceful sleep,
My soul immersed in her ethereal charms,
Entranced by love I knew not how to keep.
Sweet memory is a prison of a kind,
Where love that’s lost still chains the heart and mind.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.