Sonnet 394

On September 24, 2020January 14, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Thus we embraced as intimates of mind,

In cursive lines each traced the other’s face,

While paper prisms rayed our hearts in kind

Though never having basked beneath shared gaze.

I fell in love through romanced sight of soul

That spawned hand graven from sweet styled ink,

With words alone you did my love cajole

And of your kindness, often I did think

That two of separate peace might be so one

And of imagined voice could speak in tune

Where everything there written seemed a poem

That caused my pride and purpose so to swoon.

Each week a scented letter bore your name,

Until one final message, hope defamed.

Sonnet 393

On September 14, 2020January 14, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The forward view of life from youth is long,

Bright sanguine sally sure of ample years;

From aged stance such stretch seems but a song

That lingers on the lips of those held dear.

How does the passing time our brains beguile

Where years confound to weeks and weeks to days?

Would but the suffered length of lover’s miles

Contract to measured inches in these ways.

Time’s hand serves but his stingy purposed own

And rare he grants beyond four score and ten,

Bequeathing here at best on shackled loan

A bounty that will not be spent again.

I smile and gaze upon my child’s face

Where love and hope eternal, Time disgrace.

Sonnet 392

On September 14, 2020January 28, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Where is Sylvia? Mystic maid of time

That for a moment reigned in passion pure,

Her shining praise all eyes once deemed sublime

Yet few did see that heart of love demure;

The last I saw her, naked ‘neath the moon…

Soft silken skin bathed in a lustrous light,

Slim arms askew as in a gentle swoon,

Strawberry lips her loveliness to dight….

I faded from her chamber duty bound

Not knowing when I closed that shadowed door,

That I would there my sweetest hopes impound

And strive in search of truth forever more.

Though silver light may bathe all sylphs in kind—

There lies no peace until I Sylvia find.

Sonnet 391

On September 11, 2020January 28, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

But would it bless you more if these dear words

Might linger in the murky mists of time,

Where those who ever do so read this verse

Should feel your essence in each scriven line?

Pray that they dwell not on the pen or hand

That writ this proof, save for sweet passion framed,

For yet in truth, a dullard could command

Some fervent favored utterance beauty named.

In simplest sense they might my ardor note

Perhaps remarking, ‘what so drives this soul

To strive in wanting cursive and so dote

Upon this mythic maiden words can’t show’?

But even doubt shall find my saving grace

‘Mongst heartened souls who’ve gazed on such a face.

Sonnet 390

On September 8, 2020October 4, 2020 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Rest now your eyes upon sweet Chanticleer,

That rugged shore where winds and waters greet

Intrepid souls that bear life’s pompous jeers,

Proud dauntless hearts downtrodden in defeat;

‘Tis here you’ll find light balms to wounds assuage

And ever still, sound refuge from the storm,

Though out beyond the lea, fierce battles rage,

This port of heart and hearth shall keep you warm.

Here then lift up a dram to spirits raise,

And hearten so spent voices into song

That in sound verse we bless in righteous praise

This rampart of the soul that I call home.

As long as wind and wave shall kiss this shore

So bides my essence here — forevermore.

Sonnet 389

On September 2, 2020January 28, 2023 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Ah Sylvia, dear nymph of gardens green,

Too soon we squander all the sweets of night;

Now in the east a rim of gold is seen,

Bright scimitar which is a lover’s blight;

What pain to have you rise from ‘twixt my arms

To stretch and yawn and shake your sleepy head,

Again to there awaken all your charms

But in so doing heighten partings dread.

A brief respite with you beneath the stars

Seems but a gift that is pure heaven sent,

No slight of day will yet this image mar

Though memory such may seem but yearnings dreamt.

Daylong I tread as though upon the air,

For fain at dusk, I’ll hold sweet Sylvia fair.

Sonnet 388

On September 2, 2020October 4, 2020 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The golden light of summer’s torch succumbs

Each day retreating more to southern shore;

In marched progression, lessening the sum

Of gilded promise that the springtime bore.

Now leaving darkness longer time to play

And bold Orion stalking through the night

With club upheld in endless search for prey

And sweet Merope ever in his sight.

So Ursus Major yields to hibernate

As winter’s grip lays siege upon the land

And too does autumn’s burgeoned bounty wait

To fill the cornucopias least and grand.

Thus is it now, and ever may it be;

The sun, the earth, the stars…and you and me.

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

Loubert S Suddaby poems

Month: September 2020