You were noble, white and pure as snow
when buckets full fell at your job,
to and thro people did in a hurry go
but for you and me the world did stop
when in writing we became man and wife,
the icy white did cover everything,
by God's grace we were jubilantly alive
while with utter joy our hearts did sing.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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