© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Month: March 2020
Sonnet 326
©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Don’t
©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 325
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 324
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 323
Sonnet 322
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 321
There is no greater challenge than black ink
Truth etched in lines that softly image you;
A simple pen in hand can make one think
And thought leads on to thoughts, as thought will do.
What portraits here to paint in cursive strokes?
What passion put to page could capture worth?
What force confined in two dimensioned yoke
Might yet convey a grandeur blessed in words?
Still, humbled by your beauty I still write,
Debased by peerless virtue I transcribe,
Compelled by timeless merit I here smite
That plain papyrus with this paltry rhyme;
A fool in love determined to court praise,
In ardor bold, but clear, bereft of ways.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 320
Those quiet moments when I hold your hand,
That darling peace where words dare not intrude,
No human moment ever stood so grand
As in that simple lovers’ interlude;
For what to say when hearts soft meld as one,
Strong, confident and ever blessed by time,
A proof as constant as the day borne sun
Full knowing I am yours and you are mine.
What greater tribute to the steadfast soul,
That proud commitment can live life beyond;
So even when the earth reclaims her brood,
The thud of dirt can never dull the song;
I am so blessed, your touch alone gives proof —
Love’s simple graces can a world so move.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Sonnet 319
I saw you dancing at the Grand Rose ball
As ‘round that polished floor you swayed and swooned,
So like a nascent blossom’s buoyant fall
You floated gently, blown about the room.
Never had I seen such loveliness—
Such artful motion melded to a song,
Yet in that moment when my gaze digressed,
The music ended and the bloom was gone.
I could not find you; yes I searched in vain
Among the roses that did walls adorn;
Each florets’ smile bore symbols of my pain;
Sweet haunting perfume left my soul forlorn.
Perhaps my eyes betrayed, thus so it seems…
Yet slumber closed, I dance with you in dreams.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.