Month: August 2020

Sonnet 387

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Love’s greatest merit lies in constancy,
That golden thread that bests the rot of time
And weathers all the blight there is to be,
Surviving yet the worst of earthly crime;
Believing love will triumph come what may
Despite the darkness fortune’s hand bequeaths—
In this, the truest hearts shall still allay
The sharpest sword that foul fate unsheaths.
As morning sun gives hope to ravaged earth,
As gentle rain breeds life from barren ground,
As precious souls bestir in hallowed birth—
In life’s enduring rhythm, truth is found.
By measured cadence love plays out its course
Against all odds, though they be blessed or cursed.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 386

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Do what you will, and may you bide in shame;
Dishonor every promise ever sworn,
Let each dear nuptial utterance burn in flame
As in base lust your fleeting worth is torn.
The sweetest angel may yet fall from grace,
So may you bide in second-circled hell
Where I forever see your anguished face
Stare up in torment from that fiery well.
Perdition granted, you may take your leave,
Smug Satan waits to clasp you at the gate —
Loss of true heart your soul shall yet bereave;
There is no time to dwell on love or hate.
Go as you must, for he now beckons you:
A smile discreet—the devil has his due.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 385

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
My nighttime muse has left me so it seems,
Though passioned fire still smolders in my breast;
The silver moon lights up your face in dreams
To taunt my fervor with that visage blessed;
Black alchemy has turned my pen to lead —
And demons dark deny sweet voice of mind;
They swill the nectar that proud ardor fed,
Yet leave parched lips bereft of praise in rhyme?
I sit in silence, fettered by the night,
No will to lay my thoughts on paper down,
Your spirit dancing still within my sight
Where I entranced must languish ’til pale dawn;
Yet if my muse be gone, no more to see—
I’ll write in dreams ‘til she returns to me.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 384

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Then march forever onward, wicked Time,
Carrying the world with you to its doom;
And never look back upon your vile crimes
As you stride onward to your final tomb.
May lines of anguished truth your story tell
To chronicle sweet worth laid waste to ruin;
By your sharp blade, both good and evil fell,
Sad effigies of life lie heedless strewn.
Relentless, obligate, cruel, unconcerned
Forever wedded to your tyrant vows,
Determined to destroy, all beauty burned—
Now charred remains, mute testaments allow.
Yet from those ravaged fields there blooms a flower;
‘Midst tears of rain, fair proof of beauty’s power.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.