Sonnet 182

Banishing love, you now proclaim us friends;
Yes, steadfast friends to stand forever more,
Where words and smiles replace once soft held hands,
Moist loving eyes, all passion to abhor.
No lips to kiss, no arms of sweet embrace;
No midnight strolls beneath a fawning moon;
So ever bound to keep a public face;
No stolen touches in the drawing room.
Such concord is for love, a poor excuse—
A purgatory or a kinder hell:
What sin of sins could cause such fall from grace
And for this pretense, what might hearts compel?
Ordain in friendship that which once was love,
Is with a sentence all the world to move.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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