My love has so imbued with golden light
That visage rare which every eye adores
And I, spellbound, in passionate delight
By finest wish, could never want you more.
Yet though I pine, you stand so out of reach
As grasping mist in some elusive dream—
Here still I strive with every thought to breach
Those ramparts that surround your sacred realm.
I have no standing, lineage or birth
To rive those walls that so ensconce you now;
Not but a paltry dowry courting mirth…
As worthless as this ink—sure to raise brows.
This rune is but a bolt shot to your keep,
Staunch heart surmounting hurdles legs can’t leap.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Loubert S Suddaby poems 