Sonnet 478

An anemone ensconced beneath the sea
Was lonely so he split himself in two,
Beside his mate the twain did wave in glee
Yet twixt the each the distance slowly grew.
While happy arms still waved in sweet delight
The touching hands now gently slipped apart
And what was one now seemed but two in plight
As each from each obeyed a separate heart.
Yet as they moved they flailed in happy dance
Gesticulating love or sad farewell
And whether theirs remained a strained romance
Or briny hate, no one could ever tell.
One question so did linger on the seas;
We’re they still friends, or rank anemones?

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 477

For what is love if not the sight of you,
Bright almond eyes, fair skin of lustrous dawn,
Broad gentle smile that warms hearts through and through,
Sweet voice in which all pleasing notes are found.
Lithe movements that sport female liberty
And yet a presence firm with soft command,
Proud virtue that archangels blush to see,
Compassion true that knows no finer hand.
I thank the gods that made the female form,
Then saved the best and blest it once again
Placing her by my side to take my arm,
To sing to me each day in glad refrain.
As gods permit, your beauty will live on,
A vision quite, enshrined here in my song.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 476

Ah life! The beating heart, the musing mind
And all the chaos of confusing thought
There rendered through synaptic webs entwined
That we may yet perceive what God has wrought.
Yes what we see, waved corpuscles of light
Are but reflections of reality,
As gazing in a pool where zephyrs blight
The compilation of that which we see.
All conscience locked within a cryptic brain
Of jellied porridge set sapience serene,
Whose silent machinations yet arraign
The whole summation of what senses glean.
Though what exists be rarely what we think,
We ponder on, or into darkness sink.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 475

Neither have I inclination or yet time
To screen my words for vain propriety;
Nor fear my speech be judged a heinous crime
When placed at odds with your feigned decency.
You draw yourself up at the vaguest slight
Perceived by what you deem offends your ear
And round your eyes in counterfeited fright
When jesting jabs your dignity besmears.
The world shows not you centered at the point
Where it revolves in timeless tenured turn,
Nor do its patrons wish to so anoint
Your ego, save with oils quite quick to burn.
Yea damn to hock all varlets that you see—
Spare me the trial, I’ll throw away the key.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 474

My child, do not succumb to that dark web
Where minds are tempted and true souls beguiled;
Where bits and bites gnaw promise into dread
And human decency is oft reviled.
The better part of man is lowered such
That rancor reigns upon aborning creeds,
Bright lives diminished at a simple touch
To foment angst and purse rot tyrant’s greed.
Power debases most who wield it’s mace
And few of good will their proud course maintain,
Dominion can corrupt the noblest grace
And vices’ dungeons soon all good detain.
Though thought now travels at the speed of light,
Sage judgement yet disperses wrong from right.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.