Sonnet 534

Happy Birthday my love where on this day
Marks still the time a regal soul was born
To grace the earth as though an errant ray
Of heaven’s light upon the earth was shone.
That beam to braise the world in love’s sweet warmth
And rainbow hue the earth in kindness fair
That every heart so touched rise hope adorned,
Imbued with ardor yet beyond compare.
Of fondness blessed such purity of heart
By gentle grace could every soul confound
And so one form from others stand apart
Yet still embrace by omnibus renowned.
Now is a time to celebrate and sing
And may this praise in rhyme forever ring!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 533

I threw another dream log on the fire
Where dying flames could lick it hungrily,
And though soft smoke to heaven did aspire
My thoughts lay in bronze embers still to see;
Within those glowing coals, all ardor past,
The essence yet of every hope and prayer,
All quested glory now on ashes cast
And nigh below, grey stone to rest them there.
Not long ago a great inferno burned
Within the confines of this yawning hearth,
A conflagration pure of life affirmed
Now lit as candles on a sepulcher;
That blaze a flicker of its’ former might
Which once did rage; Oh with a gloried light!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

The Poet

Carefully chosen words laid in like brick
And then the mortar grit and muddy thick
To build a structure where no ready form
Could yet unto the watchful eyes discern;
But still the layer labored unaware
Indeed quite doubtful anyone should care
For there was such fulfillment in that work
No part of him would deign to stop or shirk
That labor born of love that egged him on
Until upon that page no light yet shone.
Rest of tomorrow ‘til the sun shall rise,
Where line by line fresh toil greets the skies.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 532

Quite then a traveler between birth and death,
That odyssey of hope and dreams deemed life;
From primal scream until the final breath,
A pilgrimage replete with bloody strife;
A gauntlet there of tribulation run
So beaten, bound, by every word disgraced;
More battles seeming lost than those fair won
And even night’s reprieve by fret defaced.
Yet comes the morning with the waxing light
To vanquish shadows and to spirits warm,
Slaying dragons that beset the night,
Salving worn souls in faith’s eternal balm.
Here though I greet the world with gaze distrait,
I look on you and grant that hell can wait.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 531

Long have I gazed through life’s ethereal smoke
And of that time have seen fair beauties pass,
Where most sport fairness as a glamorous cloak
That hides a heart stone ugly, rude and crass.
Sweet beauty is not always golden truth
And truth is rarely simple beauty blessed,
For outward grace seems more the veil of youth
To stand brief moments there by springtime dressed.
But you, dear you show beauty from the coeur—
This truth affirmed where here I so defend
To state this peerless garment that you wear
Will age unblemished to the very end;
Most beauty is not truth that’s outward seen
But more charm’s aspect flaunting virtue’s mien.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.