Sonnet 371

It doesn’t seem like Father’s Day today,
The sun has risen, soft winds now rock the trees
Much like the hand upon those cradle days
Which lingers on in blissful memories.
My children are now gone with lives their own
Yet still I hear their laughter on the stairs;
I see their playful images have grown
To take their lofty place among the stars.
So aches the heart that causes tears to fall,
So falls the rain that makes sweet flowers grow,
So comes the snows that blanket over all,
So passes time … I know, I know, I know.
Some years ago sweet doves from home embarked;
Their shadowed wings still beat within my heart.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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