Centuries from now bright eyes may stare amazed
At cryptic words they cannot comprehend
As Napoleon’s grenadiers once stood bemused
By Coptic etchings strafed in Nubian winds;
Perhaps of curiosity alone
They do decipher markings now unbound
And raise from dark obscurity to known
Strange writings that did every eye confound.
So from the past, a lyric lost in time
A yearning deep that they may understand,
An earnest proffer locked in passioned rhyme,
Keen human ardor, stirred from slumbering sand.
If love still thrives, they might there muse and guess,
Of troth so bold, what could she say but yes.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.