At Dusk - Poem by Gert Strydom
At dusk when the night
had stolen the last rays of the sun,
I heard you laughing outside in the garden
and your blouse was a bright yellow.
There were bushes of daisies flowering
and hand in hand we walked
before the shadows did come
and suddenly the sky was dark but open
with stars bedecking the whole heaven
as if they were hanging on a gigantic tree
and some were green, or blue or white
and like a young deer I caught you
and wanted to share these things with you
while the breeze was playing through the old tree.
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