FIRST LOVE
A sonnet by Victor Hudson ©2018
Painting: "Fresh" by Emile Munier
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Behold the innocence of youth:
A substance of a purest kind,
A holy grail, a sacred truth,
An essence of a human mind.
Whilst early years run the course,
Another tune comes into play,
Its unimaginable force
Molds tender hearts like lumps of clay.
And from these hearts bright flowers grow:
Red roses blush, blue violets sway,
White lily petals spread, aglow,
Inviting throngs of happy days.
'First love won't last, but in the end
We all remember it, good friend.