Sonnet 577

Dear Poetry, sweet  mistress of the mind,
You lead me to fond gardens of delight
To there seduce by golden voice in kind
While love and lust fair virgin rhymes bedight.
There heart to heart a primal beat entwines
Lone souls as one in precious evensong,
Where marching measure cadenced into rhyme
Leads to that place beyond the madding throng.
So shall we meet by light of sun or moon
Or on those darkling eves when no beams fall,
By candled verse to dance in simple tunes
Where lyric lines of cursive lilt enthrall.
You are my first and ever lasting love;
No rune of flesh could yet my heart so move.

© Loubert S. Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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