June of the heart

When winter finds its impact
and binds itself
in your depths

the blossoms are past
and the glory of summer
are long gone.

When you look into the cold
dark depths
everything there
is empty and void.

At places rain falls
in the winter
that brings new life to the cold

but these tears
do not wash away the deeper pain
and nothing ever
repairs dead love,

l’Envoi
nothing can mend
a broken bond
like it once was,

still it’s sometimes rare
that love hibernates
and with spring
rise up again
with new power and glory.

[Reference: June discussed here as in the Southern hemisphere, where it’s wintertime.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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