At The Dark Hour Poem by Gert Strydom

At The Dark Hour



Our love was conceived as a secret,
an oath between you and me
and in silence we adored each other
and I felt your pulse beating in your nipple
with only a sigh from your tender lips,
but your eyes spoke words
talked their own sentences
and I sensed the language of your body
of your whole being when you enveloped me
and although war is a damned thing,
filled with sorrow, with a unknown tomorrow
it did bring us together,
maybe to cling to life during the fading light
and your loving
in this night, this hour of darkness
will forever stay with me.


[Reference: At the dark hour by Paul Dehn.]

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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom

Johannesburg, South Africa
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