Gert Strydom (03 April 1964 / Johannesburg, South Africa)
When I Did Meet You (Sestina)
It was on a cold winter day
that I had met you and that night
in a dream your image were leading the way
to somewhere where there was a bright light
and like children together we did play
and did frolic and laugh and dance to our delight.
It was in my own soul a delight
to visit you on the very next day
to be sure of my feelings in the broad day light
as my heart did follow its own way
and was longing from the previous night
and I wondered if to you it was only another game to play?
But to triumph in the game of life I had to play,
even if sometimes in playing there was no kind of delight
while time passed too quickly between night and day
and I found my self during dusk’s fading light;
saw the evening star finding its way
on a lovely moon filled night.
Fireflies did gleam from dusk to dark night
while an orchestra did over the radio play
while we watched each other in a kind of delight
were away from the inquisitive eyes watching during the day
and it was very romantic in the starry light
while in the garden to the front gate we did find the way.
I was in a kind of trance almost asleep along the way
and back to my house watched the shadows of the night
and in my mind was nothing but this day,
nothing but memories of a first kiss and its delight,
memories of how your fingers did in mine play
and to me another motorist flashed a light.
In my heart burnt a secret new light
and you had taken me from my well trodden way.
I thought of only you right through the night,
though of the games that all humans with each other play
and my thoughts of you had no pain and only delight
while you were in every breath until the brake of day.
I still love you from that day and you are my bright shining light
the one that leads me through the night along my heart’s way
and still we do kiss and play and have in bliss a kind of delight.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (When I Did Meet You (Sestina) by Gert Strydom )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings