Sonnet 394

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.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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