Sonnet 620

On January 18, 2024August 27, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Of what is beauty formed, and who can tell?

An arching brow, doe eyes, rose cheeks, a smile?

An image that can beating hearts bestill,

A compilation holding gaze a while?

Is it a single portion or a whole,

A beacon bright or more a grand collage,

A symphony of light that smites the soul—

By Aphrodite’s hand, a sweet mirage?

Sure true, an essence, not a concrete thing

Where no two visions hold the self same sight;

While all admire the wealth perfection brings,

So few agree on what is best or right.

A dear delusion practiced on the mind

Whose power exists by what is felt in kind.

Sonnet 619

On January 18, 2024August 28, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Here in this verse my dearest love shall live,

The more you read, the more embraced by mind;

A hope eternal, tender words that give

A memory surpassing mortal time.

Yes, by the heart rehearsed, these words find breath

To speak aloud whenever you recall,

Reflections true that conquer even death—

Within that heart where I have longed to dwell.

Thus bound within these words that I hand cast

So shall I travel everywhere you go

And even if I fade as shadows pass,

Some whispered thought, unburied lines may show

A man who loved you—always, right or wrong,

Lives deep within your essence as a song.

Sonnet 618

On January 7, 2024August 28, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

What might I say that was not said before

When golden tongues long hailed your precious grace

In soft cantations drawn from ancient lore,

Or penned citations of your peerless face.

So many men were moved to lavish praise

Their hearts laid bare, their sleeves by passion worn,

With eyes bright limned in sentimental glaze—

(Brave accolades, by jealous wives forsworn.)

I would not deign to debase pure love so,

For rarely do beseechments win this game;

Unrequited love courts ceaseless woe

And so unbalanced, summons lasting pain.

Here then I stand reserved, your gallant knight—

Though you fair free to choose a timid wight.

Sonnet 617

On January 6, 2024August 28, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

What words to speak that you will not condemn

Or find some hidden angle to attack?

Your every word becomes an axiom

While those I say seem ever to fall flat.

My daily toil is always less the more

And ever stands an action to rebuke;

Still to these labors where my heart I pour

Each small success is deemed a trifling fluke.

My measured worth will always here fall short,

My glass shown ever as the emptied half—

And wanting dignity, each posed retort

Is still received as but a hapless gaffe.

I do things right and they’re remembered not;

I do things wrong, yea never there forgot.

Sonnet 616

On December 26, 2023August 28, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

The Christmas spirit now seems double-crossed;

First by the cross that Christ was flogged to bear,

Now by the blight of public pagan dross

Whereby that sacred meaning stands obscured.

So distant lies the heart of Bethlehem

Where son of God, as yet the Son of Man,

By humble birth was given to atone—

And shed the blood by which we may ascend.

We stand now at the nexus of this rood,

The meeting point of the intellect and soul;

Divine intention sadly misconstrued,

By mortal pride or dark design—unwhole.

It is indeed by darkness we know light:

From blackest shadow, n’er a star more bright.

Sonnet 615

On December 10, 2023August 29, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

To labor ‘neath a heavy time-worn quill

That other hands have hefted with aplomb;

To timelessly address by wit and will

The vagaries of life in ink intoned;

To press the gods of hope in cursive lines

Or beseech loves, by station out of reach;

To elevate base words in cultured rhyme

That by suggestion, some old rune may teach.

Such is the only wish I ever asked—

That silent words might touch both heart and soul

That minds in shared humanity may bask

And dignity—our universal goal.

To show that human hearts are much the same

And by all common worth, share but one name.

Sonnet 614

On December 10, 2023August 29, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

“Am I my brother’s keeper?”—one may ask,

The answer, yes, when based in piety;

Religion oft becomes a noble mask

That varies widely with society—

Born of man’s wish to marshal group-held thought

To temper action in civility,

That there, perhaps, a kinder course be sought

To school brute hubris with humility.

From dateless jungles we are scarce removed

And selfish genes play out their timeless fight,

Yet where the fittest by bold acts may prove—

There pride of birth betrays its ancient blight.

So bides the sorry state of modern man—

Where faith lies but another club at hand.

Sonnet 613

On December 10, 2023August 29, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Yet from what god does your sweet mien arise?

Those eyes, those lips, that smile that dares compare;

By bold design, a peerless aspect prized

That makes proud sirens languish in despair.

Dim parlor light hails beauty much the same,

Yet morning sun lays bare what masks disguise.

While maquillage is more or less a game,

For paint and powder, beauty’s truth decries.

Here unadorned at break of day you shine,

Bright still in unadulterated light

Though visages by brush, fair rouge refined,

Still seldom match what deities bedight.

You are so blessed, and I the more to see—

True beauty’s best undressed…so let it be.

Sonnet 612

On December 10, 2023August 29, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

Now let me strum the ink-strings of love’s lyre

And play for you another little song;

On this my pen’s command shall never tire

In praise of beauty, be it brief or long;

From wanting wit on through my sharper pen

Limned lyrics glide onto white parchment down

And of your graces, lines now sing again

In celebrated chorales of renown.

Superlatives enshrined, steeped deep in rhyme,

Shall stand as tribute to a visage rare—

Mute words to eyes, yet minstrels to the mind

That vocalize a worth beyond compare.

A madrigal for you, borne forth by sight

To inward ears and then the heart’s delight!

Sonnet 611

On November 26, 2023August 29, 2025 By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment

I did not seek the name of sonneteer—

Light dalliance in verse seemed hardly wrong.

By writing of and for, I held you dear

And praised your beauty with my little songs.

Sweet poesy but a proxy for love’s words

Since terse ‘I love you’ seemed at best, passé,

My shyness left a love by hope inferred,

Yet lines of rhyme by love entwined did say

More than dry lips and tongue could ever speak

When gazing on your countenance so rare—

But leaning on my pen, I still felt weak

That at a frown, my heart would shatter there.

So did I veil pure love in fourteen lines;

A child at play with peekaboo in rhymes.

	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

Sonnet 620

Sonnet 619

Sonnet 618

Sonnet 617

Sonnet 616

Sonnet 615

Sonnet 614

Sonnet 613

Sonnet 612

Sonnet 611