Sonnet 214

What is this love? Perhaps not ever after;
Does it live on beyond the beating heart?
When souls dissolve into thin vapored matter
Does love so linger, or with souls depart?
What essence then survives sweet memory,
Where living memoirs loves’s fond praises sing;
And when proud voices into darkness flee,
On to what ears do dying echos ring?
Does love then fade like music in a room,
Or yet like perfume on a bridal gown,
Evanesce like light entrapped inside a tomb,
Or wane like haunting bagpipe dirges blown.
In hope, when lover’s eyes shall grace these lines,
Our love remembered lives, and so mocks time.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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