How Dear You Are To Me Poem by Gert Strydom

Felix lies curled up sleeping on the bed
and the cold streams in like from a fountain
at the open window
and I feel rather ill
with flue and a sore throat,

but the worst still
is how much I miss you
as if the day is stretching out longer
and with the winter sun
big longing comes

and yet you are in my heart
where your love
falls like a star over the horizon
and burn with a power of its own

and the more I miss you
the dearer you become to me