Though my heart aches and aches—yes, aches for you,
Your grace remains untouched by all my pain,
And I, a wretch, with naught but hope to lose,
Here pledge my all, your favor but to gain.
Stand naked I—bereft of courage, bare—
With eyes too weak to meet your sovereign gaze;
And you, a beauty true beyond compare—
No mortal lips can voice your worthy praise.
There numbed to silence, I still sit and dream
That one day soon I might yet hold your hand,
And in these thoughts explore love’s tender schemes
To win your heart and reign in sweet command.
In dreams I rise to storm the castle gates;
At dawn, I yield to all that love conflates.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.