A Kind Of Meeting Poem by Gert Strydom

A Kind Of Meeting



In my depths your dark eyes are searching
and you soft perfume goes to my head,
the moment lingers while some women chat,
your hand is in mine somewhat loving
and my other hand holds a crumpled handkerchief,
you smile suddenly somewhat caring
and we are like two characters in a movie scene.

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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom

Johannesburg, South Africa
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