With Mere Words (Free Verse Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

It's with mere words that I come to you
and I remember how together we pruned the roses,
late in winter while the August-winds howled
and now we wait on spring to leave us speechless
but in all of this you still do turn my days around,
where I see love glowing deep in your glance,
while with a hosepipe you are wetting the garden
and the feelings between us we cannot disguise
while the spring, life and love do wait on us
like summer do linger in the background,
while you pray that the abstractions between us disappear
and against me lie cosily at night,
God still does determine everything
while your unpredictability lets my heart beat wildly.

[Poet's note:In the Southern hemisphere of the world the seasons are opposite to those in the northern hemisphere and hence August is the last month of winter.]

© Gert Strydom