Sonnet 275

These emerald eyes reflecting here Midori,
Tinting vert the windows to my soul
As I gaze on an endless cyan ocean
Wherein such depths rest all life’s secrets old;
Tender as first light on verdant meadow,
Gentle as a zephyr waking leaves,
Rich the golden rays on forest mountain,
Lush unripened promise bound in sheaves;
What marks the name that vests a spring time maiden
So blessing here the world with Eden’s light?
What do we call an angel reft from Aidenn
Set here upon earth’s gardens of delight?
Though things are seldom ever as they seem,
Can only she so make my blue turn green.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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