It was a winter bringing despair

It was a winter bringing despair
when the black frost kills wherever it falls
with a killing coldness in the air
and even the doves stop their intimate calls,

where water in streams freeze into ice,
the grass of the veldt rather turn brown than yellow
and old men live out their last fantasies of vice
before the winds of death starts to blow

A time when people put their children early to bed,
where even the chimney fire doesn’t bring heat
while few words among people are said
and coldness creeps up through icy feet.

Yet it was a time of love and making love
while couples did fit into each other like a well made glove.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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