As A Mortal Man (English Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

As a mortal man the depths of love
I do not comprehend;
something that nothing can remove
that comes without end

in a world where all things do decay
must have a divine essence
even when my life in old age is swept away
but in your lovely presence

again I seem to be young and in my prime
while energy pulses from your hand
and it's as if the machinations of time
for moments silently do stand

and I wish to love you so into eternity
while it seems as if from all bond we are free.