Sonnet 394

Thus we embraced as intimates of mind,
In cursive lines each traced the other’s face;
Through paper prisms viewed our hearts in kind
While never having basked beneath shared gaze.
I fell in love through romanced sight of soul
That grew 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 disclaimed.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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