Sonnet 173

Sweet roses given are a gift sublime
And capture love’s sweet essence in perfume,
But blossoms crowning thorny stems remind
Short distance sits between sharp pain and bloom.
As love can bring great pleasure and great pain
So fitting then this symbol of true love;
Though charms may fade, the memories there remain,
With pain or pleasure oft staunch hearts to move.
Ironic sweetness thus enshrines the rose
Whose flourish wanes yet favor transcends time,
As lovers’ perfume on a lovers’ clothes
Dulls on the silk, but strengthens in the mind;
Though scented petals oft loves’ stage adorn,
Rare is the love that never braves a thorn.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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