Sonnet 507

It was not mine, that hand that rocked the cradle,
Though I may yet have touched it once or twice;
It was the finer one that God did favor
To be a mother and a loving wife.
The one whose face, now lined of joy and tears,
Fond heart replete with love and kindness fair
That so stood steadfast ‘midst life’s endless fears,
Soft clad in courage yet beyond compare.
Our children have now left to brave their way,
To stake their claims upon the world wide;
Sweet memories the blazon that they wave
On which is writ all hope engendered pride.
Though for my part, I did but what I ought;
Awestruck to view the wonders that she wrought.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 506

Oft treasonous of love, yes this be true,
A vassal there of passion my defense;
Yet through it all I did remain with you
Cowardly callous to my grave offense.
The blood of youth runs hot and so esteems
Brute rendering of flesh in love and war,
Upon the denouement, such lurid scenes
Score deep the mind where probity abhors;
True love prevails when lacerations heal
And wounded hearts may yet unite again,
There from travails, the stronger joint to feel
Annealed by time to better fate contend.
Drop hammer cast, in hope we journey forth
Or bonds so forged be damned to nothing worth.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Eternity

If we could here but live forever
Arms entwined embraced in pleasure
Biding time in daily leisure
Golden suns our warm sweet measure
 
Here we would laugh each love long day
Where hearts and souls in promise play
And kisses sweet in silence say
I love you more than yesterday!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 505

Was she a woman there of virtue blessed
Or yet some lumen born of beauty’s light,
A gloried sylph by wealth and fame caressed,
A princess praised above by courtly might?
No, she was none of these I will assure
Yet still a woman good, yes through and through;
Of any faulty praise she would demure,
No hint of stern rebuke would she imbue.
She feared not love and ever weathered hate,
Her daily actions always duty bound,
Content to bear the changing bonds of fate,
To live and love upon the middling ground.
A consort of the soul to stay the course
And be sound comfort, be things well or worse.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.