Here On The Night Air (Italian Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

Here on the night air I smell your perfume
as if right now you are right here with me
and how do I now wish this true to be
while outside red roses do in glory bloom

while we do live in times of endless doom
and a deadly virus do effect our own reality,
as endless deaths we do in news-reports see
and it'\s as if you are present in this room

but from me you are away locked-down
while to pieces I do for your presence long
and life has lost its simplicity in the way it is
and to family meetings the government frown
while as my wife together we do belong
and I pray for things to be different from this.