Author: Loubert S Suddaby

Sonnet 668

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What can we know of triumph without loss
Or yet of highs if never facing lows,
What treasure never pays a tarnish cost;
What of spring whiffs if winter never blows?
The seasons of the heart sing this refrain
Through but the simple constancy of change,
Where joy and sadness seem as sun and rain
That amble hand in hand across the grange.
If God would speak his reasons we might know
Why happiness and grief so intertwine,
Why drought should raze the best green ever sown
Or why vile rot should ruin the sweets of vine.
The vagaries of fate shall ever prove…
That faith and love are with us, win or lose.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 667

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You fill my waking days and nights with dreams,

Through shuttered eyes I see your quiet light;
Your voice sings on in winds and sparkling streams,
Your form drifts soft on moonlit shores at night.
If only God would make these fancies true…
You might someday yet share my hopes and joys,
Believe I’d give my life if asked to do
And build a sanctum none could e’er destroy.
Still here it seems you doubt the truths I hold,
Though I would proudly serve you until death
And stay your guardian—staunch and ever bold,
Defending honor with my final breath—
Perhaps it matters not that you love me
For love is not to have…but simply be.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 666

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‘Tis the time Beelzebub prowls the land
To raise from graves the undead lying there
Where zombie corpses slog at his command
And ghastly goblins swarm the fetid air.
Broom borne witches cross a jaundiced moon
To cast black magic spells on hapless souls;
The headless horseman rides with head fresh hewn,
His lightning hoof prints followed close by ghouls;
Blood thirsty white fanged vampires rise from crypts,
Black cats and banshees wail into the night,
Werewolves seize children in their terror grips
While gargoyles claw thick air in macabre flight.
The Reaper creeps with shadowed scythe unseen—
All fear the somber earth at Halloween.
 
© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 665

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The gods love drama so it would appear
As life plays out upon its mortal stage,
While deities take turns as sole compere
And at a whim, rewrite a scripted page;
A fated farce where minions mark of time,
Of love and hate, and fortunes won or lost,
A tale of storied battles, grit and grime—
Straw dogs upon a barren dais, rude-tossed.
Thus so we clamor at our first debut,
Thespian throw ins cast in unknown scenes
Enamored still by fleeting limelight’s hue,
Mired in plots of mad celestial dreams.
In earnest passion though we play our part;
The denouement is written in the start.

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 664

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The female heart by most accounts is fickle
Though none should ever speak that such is true,
For saying so shall find one in a pickle
And so invites a plenitude of rue;
Best speak of romanced practicality
Where hand picked posies are a fitting start,
Followed by bright gems and gold embroideries
For these more surely seem to touch the heart.
Herein then lies this paradox of love
Where wealth, of course, should never mark the man,
Yet full in sterling is love ever proved—
Sweet nothings are but nothing in the end.
The swain that kneels to plead troth for a hand
Improves all chances with a fortune grand!

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 663

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Sweet bairn by proof of fathers shall yet stand
To mark their course in blood along the way,
And ever more than footprints in the sand
Bear emblazoned banners on life’s stage.
From son to sun to son and sun again
Quotidian stippled lines from Eden borne,
Brash heraldry there etched in proud surnames—
Bold blazons bright sworn ever to flout scorn;
There so in kinship stand e’re to defend
That cavalcade of clans that clamor on
To pledge their love in hopes that never end
And strut proud colors when forbears are gone.
May honorifics heaven blessed sublime
By scions blood here best this war ‘gainst time.

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 662

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Our forbears captured seawater in their veins
By passion’s fire, their beating blood ran red,
The light of stars served beacons for their brains
While unto cruel fate they soon were wed;
Yet dance they did, glad horas into night
To cast dear hopes and dreams upon cold stone
Not wary that pure faith here courted blight,
Unknowing they together—walked alone.
Oh Mother Earth your tender wickedness
That metes from breast of rock, rain, wind and sun
To leave the brackish taste of fickleness
And make us wonder why we e’re were born.
Thus though we crave sweet water, carry brine…
And tears taste salt, though lips be wet with wine.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 661

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For what is death if not a new beginning…
Fair chance to find if Heaven’s hell is true?
A termination right for all life’s sinning;
That place where hope’s wan tree is rudely hewn?
Sure time when living hearts do cease of beating
And sapient souls slip silently to air,
Unto that bourne from which there’s no retreating
And where now bide all dear beloved forbears.
The grave is just the final spot of leaving
That place or portal we bid earth good bye,
So do not stain that hallowed ground by grieving
Save tears for when perhaps we meet anigh;
Though I decamp, please know this love’s forever
—Where by this pledge— no man or god dissever!

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Dark Love

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Fortunes rise and fall as caps upon the main

Blank clouds rise up and rain falls much the same
Smiles wax and wane in some sad strange refrain
Monotony will drive us all insane
Love lifts glad hearts and souls to dizzying heights
And yet to treacherous jaws that cruelly bite
Where pain there felt is ever great not slight
She swore in faith to be true blue but naught
‘Twas not there mine but other hearts she sought
While me a fool yet for a nickel bought
We give away our lives too cheap it seems
And gorge our souls on low caloric dreams
While hearts make due with unfulfilling schemes
Perhaps it’s not much more than death I crave
And of that passage will I be frail or brave
No pain is felt it seems within the grave
But where for here by faith should I now go
I see the hanging noose swing to and fro
As if but winds of Heaven shakes stern no
I stand stock still above the craggy shore
Is this the best of life or is there more
That question now does silent gods implore
Shall I yet languish ever by this sea
The here and now and for eternity
All sun and shadow show your face to me
In some charade of life’s perversity.
© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 660

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We oft forget love’s primal meeting past
As if stunned souls stood blinded by the sun,
Yet at first blush, who stops to pause or ask
If this celestial vision is the one.
So, awestruck—bound in silence there we stand
As senses gather sense of words to say,
By hope in phrases golden, bold and grand—
But more in truth, dry mouthed and dull as clay.
Still we press on, insouciance to prove
Full drowned in admiration, strained to think
That such a being could our earth so move
And set us standing dumbstruck at the brink.
‘Tis little wonder that first words there said
Can find scant refuge in a swimming head.

© Loubert S Suddaby.  All Rights Reserved.