I Hear Your Clear Voice Poem by Gert Strydom

Numb, half-awake, and dazed with wonder,
I gasp at you, in the room at my mother's house,
I hear your clear voice breaking into my reality,
ringing with familiarity in the morning twilight:
"My husband, are you awake?
Half dazed I look up,
and gaze at you in almost stupid wonderment,
while you draw me close with both hands-
My yellow-haired golden-eyed wife
and once again
I am astounded at your presence,
that back you came to me, -
after you putting on hold our marriage,
it is strange- stranger still,
the way you look at me,
with love, timid and kind-
your wild, weird acts
now something of the past.
Oh yes, you are my wife!
Way past just beautiful,
My melancholy, your almost ghostly
loveliness- at dawn,
and you are sorrowful,
and a little bit weary-
yet to me kind and fair,
almost like a royal queen,
without any royal clothes,
your voice full of harmony,
your gaze perplexing!
"Will you forgive me, "
barely audible you say,
by the dim twilight, -
I only see, your face,
white, so very close to mine,
your lips touching my face and lips,
I wonder am I still asleep or is this real?
Your shadow is a patch on the wall,
outside still gleams the amber streetlight,
I smell your perfume, something vanilla,
but I can feel the rest as your whole body
suddenly are with its weight on top of mine.

Later fully awake I realise it was just a dream.
© Gert Strydom