Then cloud me not with rumor or romance
When I gaze in your deep and savage eyes,
Yet can I here distil with but a glance
That ardent truth that beauty’s smile belies.
Am I a sailor sworn to sirens songs,
Marked by black fate to be a rune of time,
Content to love embrace ‘til hope be gone,
And rocky shores my sun bleached bones enshrine?
Why must I importune my love is true;
Why must I bleed that you know blood is red?
Do not pure tears and kisses sweet construe
My purpose here, that you have naught to dread?
Oh that these salt stained orbs could see your soul,
And your dark eyes, in turn, my truth behold.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.