Sonnet 310

I took your beauty, wove it into song,
Bejeweled it with stars of heaven above;
Exquisite so my sweetly formed sarong,
I lined it with the purest silken love.
Soft moonbeam threads around the edges sewn
Dusk’s twilight shadows dyed into the weave,
A splash of sunshine like a sash there thrown
To dapple down like golden autumn leaves;
A dove soft fabric, ethereal, feather light,
Diaphanous, much as an angel’s wing,
A chiffon cloud there 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.

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