Be Ever Sweet

Be Ever Sweet
Love, dearest lady, such as I would speak,
beyond the dusk of doubt and fear.
my dear, ever sweet, let us dare to leap,
to fall soft, fleeting, frail, and meek—ever sweet.

Be ever sweet, tradition of true hearts,
Farewell, Life! And my senses swim—
We speak our vows before the world departs.
as love’s bright torch burns low and dim—ever sweet.

Is there a bitter pang for love removed?
It was not in the winter chill,
A wound too deep, it was not fate unmoved,
but spring-times freeze—that broke my will—ever sweet.

My heart is sick, tradition, longing, torn—
O lady, leave thy silken thread,
for love is not in your white lace adorned
but bleeding hearts have dyed it red—ever sweet.

A Fairy boat on a frozen lake may glide,
But my dear heart shall find no kind morrow,
Traditions where love and longing abide.
let dawn unweave threads of sorrow—ever sweet.

True hearts gold!—yet no treasure, bright or fair,
flowers wither in time’s cold keep,
no fire can warm the heart in love’s despair.
False poets and true, all do weep—ever sweet.

Sigh on, sad heart, true heart, for love’s eclipse,
She’s up and gone, the graceless girl,
ever sweet as sorrow’s cup, my spirit sips.
her laughter lost for time is cruel—ever sweet.

Ode for hearts true, a retrospective view,
a moral to the noble,
tradition recalls lost joys, old and new.
I learn that love, though frail, is global—ever sweet.

In anticipation of days still bright,
ever sweet love once called divine—
yet shadowed now, lost love, by death’s dark blight.
Fair faithless, faithless! Poets pine—ever sweet.

A hymn to the sun is a plea to stay,
I love thee, I remember, yet…
It’s in death, night must steal the light away.
The past—dust in a graves urn set—ever sweet.

Dew on the flower is a balm for pain,
Stars weep for this voyager,
No chance for mine, love lost, not to bloom again.
even distant lands steal my cheer—ever sweet.

And spring, once ever sweet, is frozen still,
slight hope remains in memory.
As frost bites the flower up on the hill,
frozen waters flow in depths—free—ever sweet.

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About the Author: Sarah B. Royal

Sarah B. Royal’s writing defies convention. Her poetry and prose traverse the boundaries between structure and spontaneity, often weaving together philosophical inquiry, cultural reflection, and personal narrative. With a background in experimental literature, she is known for crafting works that challenge readers to engage intellectually and emotionally.

Her acclaimed palindrome performance play, 777 – A Story of Idol Worship and Murder, showcases her fascination with mirrored storytelling and thematic symmetry. In o x ∞ = ♥: The Poet and The Mathematician, Royal explores the intersection of poetic intuition and mathematical logic, revealing a unique voice that is both analytical and lyrical.

Royal’s collections—such as Lost in the Lost and Found, Haiku For You, Lantern and Tanka Too, and the WoPoLi Chapbook Series—highlight her commitment to neurodivergent expression and poetic experimentation. Whether through childhood verse or contemporary fusion poetry, her work invites readers into a world where language is both a tool and a playground.

Sarah B. Royal continues to expand the possibilities of poetic form, offering readers a deeply personal yet universally resonant experience. Her writing is a testament to the power of creative risk, intellectual depth, and emotional authenticity.

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