Sonnet 304

I should compare you to a winter’s night
Incorrigible, callous, cold and mean;
What beating heart deserves that trenchant bite
Of Stygian solstice you fair rule as queen?
Hyperborean face of driven snow,
Those crystal sparkling glacial eyes of blue
Whose needled icicles your smile does throw
To pierce the souls of all that they subdue;
But even frosty depths are warmed by hope
Which makes collation such here so unfair,
As morning sun revives the heliotrope
So may the hapless rise from numb despair;
And may these words of warning boldly stand,
That no man ever clasp that frigid hand.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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