I took your beauty, wove it into song,
Bejeweling it with stars from heaven above;
Bright-sequined so my sweetly formed sarong,
Was lined alike in purest silken love.
Soft moonbeam threads around the edges sewn,
Dusk’s purple shadows dyed into the weave,
A splash of sunshine like a sash deft thrown
To dapple down like golden autumn leaves;
Sheer dove soft mantle, ethereal and light,
Diaphanous as yet an angel’s wing,
A chiffon cloud sweet shimmering in delight
With all the wonders pleasured hope may bring;
Fair raiment right, a robe beyond compare—
I see it best when you do nothing wear!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.