Sonnet 187

Sylvia, sweet Sylvia, where are you
Now? My heavy heart still pines to have you near;
The grieving moon lays low, pallid with rue,
And stars do twinkle, cold, bereft of cheer.
I let you go without a fond farewell,
Oft dreaming that we would soon meet again,
But time eclipsed you in its’ somber veil…
Now fretted memories of lost love remain.
Oh that this mottled moon would show the way,
And light the darkened trail back to your heart;
From your soft warm embrace I’d never stray,
And we in love reblessed, would never part.
Would but these silent heavens hear my plea,
And shine upon that face I long to see.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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