I sit, pen poised before a blank white canvas
My mindful muse slow mixing words of hue
That I might paint enduring panoramas
That capture pure prized images of you;
So here a dab of light to crown your grace
And there a glint of brightness on your smile,
A splash of blush across that peerless face
And velvet shadows soft, to souls beguile.
A touch of crimson moistens loving lips
The richest chestnut strengthens arching brow,
A grand tableau to launch a thousand ships—
Sweet bowsprit set to best all beauty’s prows,
There so upon the palette of my mind
I blend by love what painted words enshrine.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Where beauty comes to light through praising eyes,
Assails the soul and leaves on poet’s breath,
Condensing yet into his quiet lines
To persevere beyond mere mortal death;
So may your elegance bide on in rhyme
To incandesce in minds of those who read
And dream that once there was a place and time
That such a matchless beauty walked and breathed.
Of virtue you engraced—who dares to write
Where judgement of sheer worth rides on a pen,
And to that challenge who bestows the right
That paltry verse proud legacy attend?
O may the grace of God now guide this hand
That here in ink, immortal worth e’re stand.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

You, quintessence of femininity —
Unabashed and unafraid, pure woman;
A beauty true which every eye may see,
So proud to be the gifted rib from heaven.
Soft to the eye and softer to the touch
Yet with an inner strength that bides in stead,
God-manded mate no man could love too much,
Right complement of heart, to virtue wed.
You are the cradle of the human form
And by design refine that mortal beast,
Give moral compass to those sinless born
And comfort so all suffering souls ‘til death.
Demure and meek, yet with a mighty power;
The pride of Eden hidden in a flower.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

So driven wild here by your winsome form,
The devil’s hound bent on a scented run,
Bestial, raw-red, purposed, raging storm,
There not to be denied ‘til prize be won.
Fearless, ferine, and not by reason bound,
Courage infused from some primeval past;
Logic undone, tight spindle there unwound,
Web-tangled twine but to the soul entrap.
Folly divine there ne’er to be denied,
Malevolent madness mocking piety,
Desire unchained, no conscience to abide—
To have, to hold…to conquer utterly.
Then spent of passion, done, sweet glory gained;
Brief spate of pride, but now by guilt arraigned.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

So close to life he lay, so close, still warm
His lids stretched wide, eyes bright as morning sun
Straw hair disheveled, begging for a comb;
Red mouth agape as if paused in a song…
Still he was dead, I knew—forever gone;
Dried blood upon his chest betrayed his fate,
Like a tattered nosegay rude red with scorn;
Crude crimson splotch that mocked all yesterdays.
What must I tell his mother—he was brave?
Not that I heard him whimper in the night,
What should she treasure of the life he gave?
Not that he cried for home with failing sight.
What shameful sins, those patriotic lies —
Sweet innocence that for false honor, dies.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Those precious tears that rise up from your eyes
Now let me know that I have been forgiven,
An hour ago my soul you did deride
Fair with the very heft of hell and heaven;
I am not worthy for I have deceived,
Ranged far from heart and home and all I loved,
Not sure of even yet what I believed—
A prisoner by lust and lies enslaved.
But I have broken free those bonds—set free;
Bashed through the sordid gates of living hell
So that once more your visage I might see
Before pronouncement by that surly bell.
My tears join yours, I touch that precious face
That selfish pride vile venery disgraced.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

So was her proof of virtue there not given—
There on that nuptial bed ‘neath eyes of God,
Her gaze upturned toward absolving heaven
Full knowing she did lay a scarlet fraud.
No honor there to stain white linen sheets
Save brine that fell for breach of piety,
Where guilt’s clenched fists the crumpled white did pleat,
While love was consecrated solemnly;
By act ordained, now she a licit wife
Deemed pure in heart in deference to sworn faith,
Yet husband true did note the tears of strife
His visage floating like a woe filled wraith.
But God stayed silent, she relaxed her grasp…
Praying there in hope, he’d never ask.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Gold and vermillion here bright colors run
Heralding retreat to duns and greys,
Marking sad surrendered summer’s sun
Whose low-slung flight now cast’s the land’s dispraise;
Leaves blush abashed, another bounty lost—
Mid-summers great green fortune lost in flame,
Pure verdant wonder that did fair hills gloss
Now pyrrhic plunder doomed to fallen shame!
Here still that final charge though brief was grand,
Though gilt and crimson splay upon the ground
As blood and treasure strewn on conquered land,
Stains sore the hearts of vanquished kings discrowned.
So kingdoms rise, so shall they meet their end;
The glory of new life shall life defend.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

My resting place shall ever be your heart
For there enshrined I’ll find no better home,
Ensconced within thy breast, ne’er apart,
Together one, wherever each shall roam.
When you look out across a prairie grand
Or ragged mountains purpled into grey,
Boreal forests vast in proud command
Or golden fields warm temperate winds do sway;
There you will see me, face to burning sun
My form soft melting into stands of trees;
Near lofty summit, victory surely won—
Or wandering foothills like some errant breeze.
Your quickened heart will tell you I am near…
And we together have but God to fear.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.