Sonnet 468

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
I did profess to love her more than life
And to embrace love’s fealty ‘til death,
By God’s sweet grace she would become my wife
To live in praise until my final breath.
A heart of hearts, she did with love subtend
Each mortal action and each thoughtful prayer;
A lover true and yet a dearest friend
Regaled in beauty yet beyond compare.
But lost in youth, I knew not what I had,
Perhaps a brighter bloom just o’er the hill,
Another floret plucked to make more glad;
Another blossom on a coxcomb’s frill.
A fool of fools, I wandered far and wide
To but recross where love and honor died.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 467

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Where then of vice or of pure virtue named,
Each act of man accorded to it’s ends,
There so of purpose then is truth oft gamed
And to a chosen conscience, played amends.
To justify a wrong seems falsehood clear
Yet though each heart with force denounce a lie,
Mercurial logic may a truth so steer
That with prevarication it may vie.
So said, a truth is rarely truly true
As what deemed white is oft a shade of grey,
Perhaps ‘tis best to judge by what we do
And not by that, in truth, of what we say.
Where reason can be tainted by black thought,
There rarely gleams a truth as white as sought.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 466

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
In times to come inquiring minds may ask,
Who was this woman that could hearts so move
That poets in proud verse devote sweet task
To cast in ink her virtues there to prove?
So was she then as grand as they have deemed
And could she with a smile all eyes so glaze
And did she float through ballrooms like a dream
And with her lilting songs all ears amaze?
I write this truth though lies may rob my sight:
No world has seen a lovely yet more fair;
Never a purer heart did grace god’s light,
Nary an angel could here so compare.
I swear that though you search ‘til end of time,
No greater beauty ever shall you find.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Path of Dreams

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
The sun did melt into the sea
Under a cranberry sky,
And left ‘neath stars just you and me
With a silvery moon a high.
 
The waves soon danced with tinsel tops
On the deep and purpled blue,
A gloaming cloak around us dropped
And chilled us through and through.
 
But arm in arm we cozied warm
And mourned the passing sun,
Of scenes like this is sweet love born
Where yearning hearts form one.
 
Now oft when lost in quiet thought
I see the sky that day
And all the joy its magic wrought,
That moment by the bay.
 
I see that love plays but a part
In still much grander schemes,
Celestial forces draw the heart
Along a path of dreams.
 

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 465

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
And was it so that then a mighty land
Replete with swords to raze a world wide;
Prodigious wealth that stood the grandest grand
With ships that sailed wherever rose a tide;
More powerful than Egypt’s lofty height,
Haughtier than regal righteous Rome
And with a reach exceeding Persia’s might—
Raw power meted from an iron dome.
Contained therein a heart of leaded glass
Reflecting rays of guilt and vanity,
Rejecting truths that empires come to pass
Though icons litter sands eternally.
They worshipped canons of sage Cleisthenes,
Whose Xipos soon did drop them to their knees.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 464

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From precious blossoms was your beauty born,
Heaven scented flowers ablaze with dew
That hailed golden sunshine every morn
And stippled lush green meadows with their hue.
No greater pleasure could yet grace my sight,
Than those blushed pinks that softly bathe your skin
Where even yet a sanctifying night,
Pure moon and stars, may beckon thoughts of sin.
A paragon of Nature without peer
Where every light or shadow can so play
Upon the minds of men to thus endear
Their souls that then their hearts be swept away:
Would that your innocence such power presume;
Proud worlds so vanquished by a single bloom.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Easter 2021

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Oh religion’s obsequious eye
To watch o’er all,
That they not stray but yet comply,
Sound edicts to enthrall.
What we once blessed in piousness
Is now much gone;
To grasp of praise on serviced lips
Among the throng.
And now we worship pagan things
That faith may plod;
There goods not gods salvation brings,
Where few are awed
When once we dreamt of righteous might
These dreams now worn,
Yet still for some He rises quite
And hope drags on.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 463

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
Man has not ripened in a thousand years;
The same old insecurities and strife,
A tale of struggle, glory, smiles and tears
All cast together, blent with chaos quite;
Each generation reaching to grasp change
Where egos urge advancement on before;
Though gestures, clothes and styles or means may range,
The jealous heart adheres to creeds forsworn.
While constructs of the mind are quick to burn,
And what was right now shadow cast as wrong,
The edicts of the soul are slow to turn
And evil soon drops civil cloaks he’s donned.
Thus what was progress seems decline renamed,
And love and hate stand but as words exchanged.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 462

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Though flame may yet destroy these lines I write,
Please read them that you know my love is true —
Then torch them if you still mistrust me quite
And I shall so with honor, bid adieu.
You are misled, the words you hear are lies;
I have not once betrayed you, this I swear.
I have not lain betwixt another’s thighs
Nor kissed of lips, nor stroked another’s hair.
You are my life as ever, this and more
And I would die with sureness for your cause;
I live in hope eternity we share,
To join as one beneath the eyes of God.
Yet if you read and still my love you spurn;
Know it is truth, not paper that you burn.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnet 461

On By Loubert S SuddabyIn PoemsLeave a comment
I rose from dust and to that dust return,
A child of the universe — no more;
Yet of that grit compounded in what urn —
And of what essence was it formed before?
Should I now care from whence these atoms sprang
Or in whose heart they erst did beat and flow?
That they once spawned a thought in tyrant’s brains
Or spent an eon locked in ice and snow?
Were that they came from bits of fallen stars,
For there in truth some Heaven I might claim,
That purposed plan not arcane force afar
Had hand in molding clay that bears my name.
From dust, from ash, from earth, it matters not;
Wherefrom, whereto, whereof… or what my lot.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.