Sonnet 350

What of those distant lovers lost in time,
Like sweet Chinook in quest on winter snow
Absent from heart but never so from mind,
Haunting the quiet places memories go.
In somber thought a sullen tear to shed
Or yet a sudden warmth to wrest a smile;
An evocation then as to why love fled,
A chary walk along that distant mile.
The sweetest love may end in raging fire,
The fondest hopes may be interred in ice;
Of love and loss who knows what may transpire
When cursed Cassandra throws those amorous dice.
Though from the heart love’s essence may abscond,
Within the soul its’ shadow lingers on.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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