Sonnet 303

Then by what measure is dread Time unjust,
When king and beggar seeming have their reign,
Though one bright robes and one drab rags encrust,
Each heart beats out its rhythm just the same.
Oft to the beggar, a simple meal’s rejoiced
Where to the king each feast is but akin,
For seldom pleasure’s oft the more enjoyed
Then daily excess, much to high chagrin.
Then of contentment less is often more
Where too much more results in being less;
When luxury has not been seen before
Its taste will leave the taster more the blessed.
In matching measure, each eke out their days,
And more or less, exult in different ways.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s