Sonnet 485

I hear him ride behind me in the dark,
The hoof beats gaining, gaining ever fast;
His black horse silhouettes at lightning’s spark
And on it’s back, the rider, shadow cast.
His form has dogged my journey since I left
And oft I see his shadow in the trees,
Sometimes so close it seems I feel his breath,
Which chills me as some frigid fetid breeze.
Undaunted still I push yet ever on,
My steed’s slick sweat reflecting bright the moon,
Reminding me his strength is nearly gone
And soon that mighty back will sway and swoon;
Then I to brave at last that fearsome knave,
Where none have yet survived his crooked blade.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 484

 

That joy of hearts, a rainbow in the sky
And of sweet minds all wonders there to see;
That visage which no dark or bright could try,
A lasting light to mock eternity.
These thoughts of love a splendored saccharine thing
That strides in beauty, though obscured by night—
A being graced with all that angels bring
Where hands fair strive to grasp truths out of sight.
More simply said, your gaze does make me smile,
And my heart quickens when I hear your name,
Your shapely form can artfully beguile
And in repose, all pious loins inflame.
Though golden voices sing of love sublime:
There you, there me, a loaf, a jug of wine.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 483

While gods have gifted me propinquity
I navigate your waters free of fare,
And of your essence which I dream and breathe,
That heart I worship seems the less to care;
I am disbarred by social straits quite clear,
My paltry raft few white-capped waves could vie,
Yet hopes fair sails unfurl to bring me near
That I might crest some vista of your eye.
Yet how to charter here the course of love
When all before us lies grand seas unplumbed?
Your gaze upon horizons ever rove
As searching for some mighty ship to come;
And here I toss upon a cockleshell,
To rise and fall, believing love might swell.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 482

Let me compose sonatas in your mind
With strings of ink I now will strum and play
That here in verse sweet melodies you’ll find
And in soft subtle notes your heart may sway;
Bright timbre true shall resonate your soul,
Proud intonation raising spirits high
Abating slight in skillful leggiero
Then in bravura, scaling to the sky.
In cursive swirls your eyes shall dance delight
As in refrain you read the lines again,
Saccadic wonders tremulate the sight
As you attend each rising rousing strain.
Then at the volta precious tears may fall
And at sforzando you give up your all.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 481

And when my arms shall cradle you the last
With love’s bright fire fading from your eyes,
When quaking grief shall tell that you have passed,
Stern bells will peel their thunder to the skies.
Gaunt birds will stand stiff silent mute in prayer
While tears of sunshine shadow wet the ground;
 Life’s scented incense staling on the air
And on each face dull sallow sadness found.
So ends a life as many have before,
Yet none so precious as that which I hold,
No words of praise could ever here say more,
Or frame the essence of your story told.
While lives are often tallied great or small,
By love’s sweet measure, yours shall best them all.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 480

There is no greater comfort to my soul
Then that we trekked together hand in hand,
No fonder memory could my heart cajole
Than those paired footsteps pressed upon life’s sand.
No earthly blight could cleave those prints apart
Though wind and wave obscured our passing there,
That journey right remains locked in my heart;
Sweet odyssey of love beyond compare.
It matters not the which, the where, the when,
The why or how that happened on the way;
The path of love is easy to defend
Yet where it wends, no one can ever say.
It matters not how much we laughed or cried;
But simply that you stayed there by my side.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 479

Oh would that I could stay Time’s wicked hand
That he dare not disparage beauty so,
Then flowers would bloom forever on the land
And your sweet visage stay in Heaven’s glow.
No flecks of silver in that sable hair,
No crooked lines to crease that silken skin,
No sunken eyes to be a shadow’s lair,
No starving lips to purse in lined chagrin.
If only God would grant me sovereign power
Such desecration I would staunchly spurn
And beauty stay forever, not an hour,
So always in your cheeks red roses burn.
Perhaps such might resides within my pen,
And words here writ, your beauty ever tend.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 478

An anemone ensconced beneath the sea
Was lonely so he split himself in two,
Beside his mate the twain did wave in glee
Yet twixt the each the distance slowly grew.
While happy arms still waved in sweet delight
The touching hands now gently slipped apart
And what was one now seemed but two in plight
As each from each obeyed a separate heart.
Yet as they moved they flailed in happy dance
Gesticulating love or sad farewell
And whether theirs remained a strained romance
Or briny hate, no one could ever tell.
One question so did linger on the seas;
We’re they still friends, or rank anemones?

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 477

For what is love if not the sight of you,
Bright almond eyes, fair skin of lustrous dawn,
Broad gentle smile that warms hearts through and through,
Sweet voice in which all pleasing notes are found.
Lithe movements that sport female liberty
And yet a presence firm with soft command,
Proud virtue that archangels blush to see,
Compassion true that knows no finer hand.
I thank the gods that made the female form,
Then saved the best and blest it once again
Placing her by my side to take my arm,
To sing to me each day in glad refrain.
As gods permit, your beauty will live on,
A vision quite, enshrined here in my song.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 476

Ah life! The beating heart, the musing mind
And all the chaos of confusing thought
There rendered through synaptic webs entwined
That we may yet perceive what God has wrought.
Yes what we view, waved corpuscles of light
Are but reflections of reality,
As gazing in a pool where zephyrs blight
The compilation of that which we see.
All conscience locked within a cryptic brain
Of jellied porridge set sapient serene,
Whose silent machinations yet arraign
The whole summation of what senses glean.
Though what exists be rarely what we think,
We ponder on, or into darkness sink.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.