Sonnet 16 – perfidy
Now is the perfidy of love revealed,
sharp and sweet the cut of it’s hidden blade,
by artful mask of deceit well concealed,
and felt keenly by this fool you have made.
Fidelity only in the land lies,
for in the petal’s blush, the changing leaves,
regal river flow and tumbling cloud skies
is where man constantly the truth receives.
In meadow and woodland as seasons pass,
the ever stoic moor and lofty peak,
and the lake polished by moonlight to glass,
can be found the fealty we all seek.
But you are immune to words such as these
for your truth’s as frail as a summer breeze.