When a swarm of doves do descend against the light-rosy evening
you are lost in this beautiful world,
then the last bright rays splash down,
while together we do experience the story of our love.
When the dark-blue comes so suddenly
we are astounded with all of the stars in the night,
the moon hangs golden-yellow romantic
and when your lips do find mine our emotions are not disguised.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem