Cornfield Poem by Gert Strydom

I see the young green buds
and smell the rain falling on fruitful ground
somewhere in the distance there are thunderbolts
that every now and then falls, explodes and branch.

A long forgotten summer still stays with me
and the glow of your bright blue eyes
where in the shade of a big old oak tree
we had a picnic next to this cornfield,

the rain that suddenly falls from a cloudless sky,
lightning bolts that ominous get closer and closer
and you and me running like elated children
in the cornfield
to the shelter of the shed
and like naughty children
embrace against each other

but here life has also passed me
and what I have of you, is only memories,
a grave where I sometimes put flowers
and sometimes it’s as if you
are still invisible keeping near to me.