Sonnet 630

On March 10, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

To be betrayed by everyone you know;

To find dear loves’ rude ending in a note,

To see fair faith in its last trembling throes,

Or tearful prayers that ever shall fall mute.

To find prized fortune at the tip of grasp,

Grand festivals eclipsed by sudden rain,

Resounding no to proud proposals asked,

Petitions snubbed, though everything to gain.

What can one do when all the world seems lost?

Heaven a distant castle in the air,

Sweet providence a penny more the cost,

Life’s milk and honey soured in despair.

So bides the brutal pilgrimage of fate—

When all but hope eternal abdicates.

Sonnet 629

On March 10, 2024June 10, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Returning now his mortal soil to earth

That cold damp dust that gave his essence form,

The grit and grime bestowed to him at birth

Now here upon life’s battle ground come home.

His spirit quite absconded, God knows where,

For win or lose—‘twas all a game of chance;

Who claimed his spirit?—Why, he didn’t care—

As ever was his path a bold romance.

But those who truly loved him knew his curse,

That vagabond of souls that they held dear

Blood pledged by honor to life’s best and worst,

Where every choice was made sans care or fear.

He lived his life, a king without a crown

And reigned in zeal ‘til fate fair laid him down.

Sonnet 628

On March 3, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Ours is a Love that shall transcend all time,

A love of loves that men gave all to know—

Though romance smiles, so sweet and seeming kind,

Oft charts a course of hardship for the soul.

I have been blessed, the grandest hope to live,

That men of yore have given life to hold—

And even now the noblest seek and strive…

For chivalry defines that path of gold.

As life commands we search for evermore

And boldest minds for truest worth contend;

The finest raiments beauty ever wore

Still hang a tattered nightdress in the end.

The silken robes of beauty’s fairest day

Fade thread-bare rags for Time to strip away.

Sonnet 627

On February 18, 2024June 10, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Let thought compose a lesson to love’s score

Where wedlock is the measure of the game,

The sweetest blossom beauty ever bore

By different eyes is rarely blessed the same.

While hearts first bleed bright red for novelty

True love bides best as favored floret worn,

Where chasing hopes of grander finery,

By waning odds, oft leaves us more forlorn.

If greener grass lay just beyond the hill

And greater catches further on the main,

By plough or prow we’d swift reward our toil

And hope would bless an ever growing gain.

In love ‘tis best to nurture one dear flower

Than bouquets set to wilt in scarce an hour.

Sonnet 626

On February 14, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

How may we speak of love, my Valentine?

So many heart filled hours now mark our bond;

From that first gaze transfixed in golden time

To yestermorn’s shared greeting of the dawn.

This day of Hearts, blood red in sanguine hope

Still stands as tribute to our tender days

And for such truth the singular may grope

For love lies in the main, shared wills and ways.

These words replace a sentimental card

And even loves’ red rose as much the same,

For how can truest love bestow regard

Through borrowed verses lessening your fame.

In truth, I cannot pen what true love means—

Save hearts surfeit of promise…locked in dreams.

Sonnet 625

On February 11, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The beat of life wherein iambs are found,

So oft comprise the pulse of living verse

Where souls mete out their scores in smites of sound,

And march in tempo to life’s greatest force.

These notes of heart and soul are not by chance

For such a rhythm stirred when chords began,

Melodic strains that mark that first cadence

Before life soared, or crawled, or even swam.

We are all creatures of a common source

And by life’s essence share it’s spiral bands,

That we through folly have ignored or parsed,

Since man first drummed crude claims of I or am;

As hearts tap out this rhythmic primal song—

So shall I write until this beat is gone.

Sonnet 624

On January 28, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

True competence is not proclaimed assertions,

Here more conferred by eloquence and deed;

Contention cast as insolent subversion

And hence through pressed abidance, we accede.

So then a dunce ascends through gilded favor

As few dare name the naked lies they see;

Twin follies to provide a cloaking vesture

That emperors may don incredibly.

Daft men here wallow in a shared delusion

Built, of course, in shallow stylized thought—

Democracy, the myth of feigned inclusion

Where citizens subscribe through things they ‘got’.

Sheer subterfuge then plays on paltry greed;

—There unto every pot, at least one need.

Sonnet 623

On January 28, 2024June 10, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Now comes the winter of this mortal voyage,

Glazed silver frosts the beard and thinning hair,

My youth a rich and plumbless pelagic age

Of squandered doubloons ‘round some shipwrecked lair.

Oh how the years have slowed the pulse of life,

My gelid blood flows thick through bolt rope veins—

Where once hope salved the scores of daunting strife,

Now poultices assuage bent limbs’ chilblains.

Still gloaming warms in embered memory;

That fair haired child yet sails on boats of stone

And cruises fearless on the grassy leas

To glide once more through Edens he called home.

I look upon my grandson’s cherubic face

And smile at promise that does time engrace.

Sonnet 622

On January 21, 2024June 10, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

How dare men slander Shakespeare for his style

Alleging that he borrowed much he wrote;

Or placed his loves and patrons yet on trial

And even more, the wisdom that he quoth.

Greene criticized the rising ‘upstart crow’

In metaphors that he himself did steal,

Rank irony he thought the knockout blow

That there this giant stoop to bow and kneel.

Still even now that genius stands impugned

By louts that cloud the luster of his fame,

Avoiding linkage there, by fear consumed,

Embracing genres distant from his flame.

They could not hope to hold the hose he wore—

Much less the quill that scrived his timeless lore!

Sonnet 621

On January 21, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

I write of love—for love alone most matters

Not only to the written but the read;

Words reft of rhyme oft seem prosaic chatter,

Where tepid ‘like’ stands proxy for love’s stead.

As arms embrace in manifested pleasure,

As souls commit in words that beckon tears,

As breast to breast so sways in dancing measure,

Shared joy and grief shall dissipate life’s fears.

So are we born unto a mother’s arms,

So to as lovers yet embrace again

And of proud union, sacred vows affirm

The harmony that heaven’s hope intends.

No greater truth yet blessed a listless earth,

For life devoid of love seems little worth.

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

	Steven on Sonnet 556
	julesbikepoems on Sonnet 404
	Meramolin B. on Sonnet 414
	Thalena on In Black and White
	pairunoyd on A Thought

Loubert S Suddaby poems

Author: Loubert S Suddaby