Sonnet 440

What can we say of love, but it sustains
In shrouding darkness and in hailing light;
Where all else fails, she as a truth remains
To stay a beacon in the blackest night.
Love is the hope that guides man on his way
And gives sound purpose to his passage there;
Of love’s grand scope, no words can truly say
Though strive we must in prose, in poems and prayer.
No life more proudly served than lived in love,
No greater blessing yet has God bestowed;
Pure light eternal cast from heav’n above,
To warm of mortal hearts when blood runs cold.
Though happiness seems bound to earthly things;
No greater bliss exceeds what true love brings.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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