On a winter morning
This morning the sky is grey
and the climate is mad
and has gone into
a mediterranean spin
and drops of rain
are sieving down softly.
At places the wind
slams against trees
and whips them about
and chills to the bone
as it churns about,
but you are with me
and no man stands alone
when love burns as intense
as between me and you.
poem by Gert Strydom

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!