Sonnet 365

There is a pleasure in the naked woods

Within whose depths no equal can be found,

Senses assailed by everything that’s good,

A place where peace and harmony abound.

Confined amidst the rawest smells of earth

There spawned to draw the sweetest of sweet breaths;

Verdant cathedrals where confirmed at birth

All sustenance first drawn of nature’s breast.

Dear Mother Earth, forgive me, I have sinned

And shed upon you tears of acid rain,

Of pride and greed and prejudice chagrined,

Natura’s soul rude whored for wealth profane;

Woe that my fall from promise was so great

Or that beseeched redemption be too late.

Loubert S Suddaby poems