Sonnet 172

One life is not enough to live with you
Reminds the fading glory in the west,
For he at dawn will golden grace renew
As we each day slip closer to our rest;
His march unfettered, measured in pure time,
Though clouds do oft besmirch his radiant smile,
Yet to our eyes, each day a faster climb
And to our limbs a longer span of toil.
Though time’s count quickens, love grows ever strong,
Where months may turn to weeks and weeks to days;
So be our time together short or long
What matters this when laboring in love’s praise?
And though our sun may set, it too shall rise;
Each day I see forever in your eyes.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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