Where at times destiny in life do sting like thorns,
you are dark-red like a rose that flowers in winter,
in the days of rest and decay you leave me speechless
when you are my relief and my mercy in the mad week,
as the one who breaks through cloudy days with a sunny smile
and there is great joy and passion when we do meet
in a cruel, harsh merciless world you do turn my days around,
and I know that there is big value even in painful days.
Your fragrance is carried by the wild wind
where all seasons are astonished by the impact that you make,
as the doves coo over you and the weavers sing your praise,
you are the one that pamper me and find me in my dark days,
the one who constantly touch me with care, mercy and love
the one who brings me with faith to better days in the future.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem