The Small Hours (English Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

Only mosquitoes turn around my head
where in the dark on my bed I lay
as if all my words are done and dead
until the morning twilight is grey

and the morning sun in the east do glow
while like this day upon day do come
and of the pain and joy of love I do know
but in love I am very stupid and dumb

while constantly you do read my poetry
do call me with words of joy and cheer
became the truest friend in the world to me
even where I have lost my whole career,

when the ominous power of destiny is pressing
love is not a curse but a true kind of blessing.

© Gert Strydom