How many times I have missed you,
during this uncommon desperate year,
and with a deadly virus life is not clear
where the end can come by what we do
where daily we stayed to precautions true
but how much I wanted you to be near,
wanted daily your lovely voice to hear,
where the symptoms were just like flue
and married but by circumstances separate
it has been a real trial living life just like this,
being locked-down each at a different place,
we did not know when the virus would abate,
when again we would meet, embrace and kiss,
or what new unexpected trials we had to face.
© Gert Strydom
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