SONNET 361
By JH Sayyar
Time steals beauty: leaves behind,
A wrinkled face with sunken eyes,
In my verses your youth you find,
Mirror and cosmetic; Time’s cries
I compare you with a fresh flower,
Decaying as earthworms eat dead,
I encage your beauty in fatal hour,
You are of my lines: a lock of wed,
You die none knows your nature,
My Muse decks in lines your sin,
Your love tart, you in entablatures,
I write your sins for kith and kin
O Lady, my fingers save you in rhyme,
You do live when all decays cruel time
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