Sonnet 563

What care I now that you should love me so,
For were I gone, you would soon find another;
Yea, fore the grass upon my grave dare grow
Your arms would surely clasp a new coined lover.
What say we then that love should ever stand
Where simple audit often proves untrue;
What promise made desire can’t countermand
And so of ever after, what say you?
Love is a dream where willing souls partake
In fantasies of bonds that outlast time,
Where anecdotes of loyalty still relate
Cloyed fancies of two hearts forever twined.
Eternal love proclaimed is wasted breath;
Where dearest hopes feign constancy ‘til death.
© Loubert S. Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

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