Sonnet 479

Oh would that I could stay Time’s wicked hand
That he dare not disparage beauty so,
Then flowers would bloom forever on the land
And your sweet visage stay in Heaven’s glow.
No flecks of silver in that sable hair,
No crooked lines to crease that silken skin,
No sunken eyes to be a shadow’s lair,
No starving lips to purse in lined chagrin.
If only God would grant me sovereign power
Such desecration I would staunchly spurn
And beauty stay forever, not an hour,
So always in your cheeks red roses burn.
Perhaps such might resides within my pen,
And words here writ, your beauty ever tend.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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